


Midnight Thinking

by Ethenalar



Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, Insanity, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-10-05 12:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20488886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethenalar/pseuds/Ethenalar
Summary: series of separate stories, sometimes based off an episode, sometimes an original event, mostly centering around murdock, mostly whump or additions to the end of an episode to go more deeply into the character. i feel like a lot of these older tv shows are good but could be a lot better with just some more in depth character moments and teases





	1. Airtight

based on the movie, the only chapter which does. in this BA doesn't like flying but isn't catatonic about it yet.

The sounds of gunfire filled the ears of everyone as the clashes of metal and smashes of glass filled the cramped space in the helicopter.  
“Hey!” Murdock yelled, quite abruptly, jerking and making the other three people look round suddenly. “You chipped the paint!” face let out a breathy laugh at the way Murdock could always laugh and have fun in such dangerous missions. BA didn’t have share the same ideas, instead focusing very hard on the inside of his eyelids and clutching his safety harasses. The colonel looked back out the cockpit window once more; jagged mountains flew passed in a black and white blur. The world spun and swung from side to side as Murdock twisted, trying to evade the gunfire, thank god they had run out of missiles ten miles away. “Ladies and gentlemen were about to begin our descent, have your passports ready.” His hand shook slightly as he pushed hard down on the joystick plummeting down vertically making BA jerk into a river of cursing once more. “No swearing in this helicopter young man!” Murdock yelled at him turning in his seat to face him. “Or ill cut off your allowance!”  
“Look at the sky you damn fool!” Face and the colonel had similar shouts and Murdock twisted back with a grunt. The colonel looked over, wondering if Murdock was somehow in a grudge by the way he grunted, he never got angry. But it wasn’t anger that sculpted the pilot’s features, it was pain.  
“I liked this shirt too.” He said, not looking at the colonel but feeling his gaze and shock from the silence. “I won’t be able to wash that out with soap. I’ll have to burn it out.” He smiled at that but it didn’t reach his eyes like all of his other smiles. His eyes were strangely clear too, they normally had that manic twinkle. Pain must have made him sane, the thought made the colonel smile to him before he realised what he was doing. He quickly looked back to the sky to see ground. The sharp inhale from Murdoch was met with a plummeting stomach as the joystick was nearly ripped out of its socket. Screams filled the space from all when there was normally one laughing at the thrill.  
There was a deafening boom and wave of heat before flames licked the windows, threatening to eat them all. “Murdock you crazy fool!” yelled BA, but they were already free of the fire from the reaper that had been chasing them for almost half an hour. Murdock levelled out so that the bottom of the craft was grazing the tops of the mountains and let out a long breath. Face started to laugh “haha never do that again Murdoch you almost killed us all man!” the colonel smiled, pulling out a well needed cigar and glanced at the blood now pooling around Murdock’s chair.  
“shit.” He scrambled free of his harnesses “get the medic kit.” The command was to no one in particular but he knew face would get it first. Sure enough the tanned and callused hand held aloft the plastic box within seconds.  
“What’s...” but face didn’t have to finish as he spotted the hole ripped through Murdock's chest. He ripped open the box and pulled out the roll of bandage. He handed thick cotton pads to Hannibal who then gripped Murdoch by the shoulder, and gently pulled him forward to inspect the exit wound. There was none.  
“Well you’re not going to bleed to death soldier.” Hannibal offered a smile and applied the wad to the front of his chest, on the right hand side thankfully, if it was the left there would be no conversation. “Well thank god for that, “Murdock plastered on another half assed smile. “My momma always said bloods always best in the body. Unless of course it’s for artistic purposes.” Face raised an eyebrow to the colonel and began rapping the bandage round the wad, keeping it in place, it was already sodden. “You can river achieve such a bright and lively red that you get with blood with any other paint or oil.”  
“I’m not gonna ask how you know that.” BA added, looking up from his hands to inspect along with the others, worried for his friend.  
“I once took an abstract art class.” He swallowed before proceeding. “Jail can be so boring if you just sit about.” He paused again whilst the others worked, his hand trembling slightly on the stick but they flew on steadily. “You’d be astounded with the things people use as paint, I mys-“  
“I don’t want to know what you used as paint fool.” BA interrupted causing the colonels thin lips to twitch upward.  
“Right,” Hannibal started causing the others to stop talking. “Face finds somewhere we can land so we can take care of Mr Murdock here.”  
“Aww, tis but a scratch!” Murdoch exclaimed and wheezed. Face turned to find the map his eyebrow twitching upward.  
“BA, come and help Murdock whilst I find somewhere with face.”  
“Hey, I don’t want to go near that window!” BA screeched, tightening his already white grip on his harness.  
“It’s alright, I can still drive.” He took his hand off the joystick to apply pressure to the wound making BA practically scream, jerking up to be stopped by his harness. He fumbled as the colonel laughed to unclip them. The colonel moved to the back, taking his hand of Murdoch but patting his shoulder. BA scuttled quickly over sitting in the co-pilot seat and fastening the buckles so fast most of them jammed.  
“Here let me help ya dingo.” Murdock reached over to be stopped by the flash of pain that scotched threw him. The hand shot back to his chest and stayed there. “Ach well guess you have to do it yourself you big baby.” He attacked his left hand to the stick as the craft started to fall left toward a mountain. BA gasped firmly holding the chair.  
“Deep breath.” Murdoch instructed. “inhale.” an awful wheezing came from Murdoch whilst a trembling gasp came from BA.  
“Open your eyes fool! I don’t want to die cos you didn’t look at where you were flying!” Murdoch didn’t laugh but complied, now focusing on the miles of bared rock and snow covered peaks, not a town in sight. “exhale.” Gurgling came from Murdoch, making face look up from his map, eyes wide and look at the colonel who just looked harder at the map of contour lines, no hospital, no settlement in sight.  
“What do we do Hannibal?” face whispered. “Were in the middle of nowhere, those reapers are probably gonna come again and our pilot has a punctured lung.” Hannibal didn’t need to be reminded. He stole a glance to the front of the compartment where Murdoch sat slack in his chair whilst BA was talking warily at him.  
“What about ski resorts?” face’s face lit up and he fumbled around to find anything that had a ski resort symbol on it. “Yes, here.” He slapped down an old map littered with coffee stains and pointed far left to the small resort, no more than 5 slopes. “They must have some kind of facility and if not a phone so we can get a hospital and more directions.”  
“It’s better than nothing.” Hannibal began measuring and calculating the new coordinate. “We have a new bearing captain.”  
Murdoch reached forward to the many buttons, switches and dials to the only key pad on the dash board, a stifled groan mumbling from his clenched teeth. “Fire away Mr Spok.”  
“NE23423” Murdoch punched it in then slowly tilted back into his chair is lips pursing, keeping his teeth from bearing at the pain that scorched through him, making every breath feel like a drink of fire.  
“Course laid colonel, adjusting now.” He reached up his left hand, leaving the stick to wobble along with the helicopter much to BA's terror and flicked a few switches. A few shallow breaths latter and a nervous jiggle of the craft, Murdock’s hand was again clasped round the stick and the tremors stopped. “ETA 30 minutes at current speed.”  
“Make it 15 captain.” The colonel ordered, motioning for BA to return to his seat so he could sit co-pilot again.  
“Aye aye, and a ham and cheese toasty while you’re at it Murdock.” Murdoch replied, pushing the helicopter to accelerate, black and white now a steady blur past the glass.

Every breath now came sharply, whenever he tried to take in a longer one he could feel his ribs breaking, something bubbling in his lung. He'd stopped talking 10 minutes ago, afraid that if he did he would start coughing and never stop, unable to get air in. his only focus was the blurring lines of mountains and keeping his left hand steady. It was becoming harder and harder as both hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They were so heavy, he felt his right slipping and fall to his lap. Desperately he tried to lift it again but soon saw the uselessness in it. One less arm to focus on he supposed. He couldn’t feel the hot blood that soaked it and seeped through his fingers, staining his jeans. Looking up he realised the mountain to his right was far too close. As soon as he noticed it he heard Hannibal’s cries and pulled the stick left. He didn’t know how much farther he could go, especially as face and BA’s voices became foggy along with the mountains that flew by.  
Hannibal checked his watch for the third time in the minute. 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes. He looked to Murdock’s ashen face; his eyelids were already drooping and his jaw slack. He repositioned himself to quickly take the stick to keep the craft level if something bad happened. No, he wouldn’t let himself think like that.  
“Any plans for the summer guys? “He called into the back but also to Murdoch. Face, who was cleaning his gun, finding no other thing to occupy his mind as it reeled and worried.  
“Well, I had thought of Cambodia, it’s really nice around the coast, and the women.” He paused for emphasise and made a perfect sign with this hand. “But I really am torn, I don’t fancy getting malaria so what about someplace that I wouldn’t like to go too really but found enjoyable.”  
“Like Canada.” Murdoch slurred  
“Yeah! Like Canada.” Face beamed, having not heard anything from his friend in ten minutes. Hannibal checked his watch again as BA started talking then scanned the snow around them.  
“there.” He pointed to a small black dot to the right, almost hidden between trees and two tall mountains. Sure enough the closer they got the more they could see. The tracks in the hill from skiers, the black lines of ski lifts. “Find somewhere to land near the building, the car park is probably the best.” Relief flooded Murdoch for a second, salvation, rest. He tried not to let it show just how much pain flooded his body, how he couldn’t take in enough air. he straitened up to get a better look, realising he had slipped down in his chair, body protesting as another ripple of agony shot through his body. This time it did send a cough to his throat. His right hand lifted to his mouth to catch the flying blood but it was so heavy that as soon as the coughing stopped it fell back, a deadweight. Now in his heightened position he could see the car park as it quickly came into his blurred vision. He blinked to try and clear his groggy eyes and pulled the stuck to slow down.  
“Can you flick,” he strained, looking to the colonel from the corner of his eye. “The switch, up there.” Hannibal looked up, his hand followed. “Two left.” Hannibal followed then flicked the switch and the other three that Murdoch chose. Looking back to the mostly clear car park he took the deepest shaking breath he could, feeling the sweat drip down the side of his forehead. Ever so carefully he inched towards the ground, giving a lurch down every so often to BA's unamusement.  
“Face, go.” Hannibal said as soon as he felt the chopper land then turned his full attention to Murdoch. His head fell back into his head rest as his left hand fell limply to his side, utterly spent. “stay with us captain.”


	2. A scammed helicopter isn't a great one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> during the events of season 2 episode 15, felt like there needed to be more said, and got carried away

The yoke violently shuddered in his hands causing the chopper to shake slightly as they flew through the smoke the missile which had flown past them only seconds before belched out. It wasn’t helping that this specific chopper was just as condemned as he was. The duct tape BA had used to hold the yoke in place had torn off minutes before which just made flying that more exiting. The panels on the floor were buckling which just made flying that more spontaneous.   
“Reload!” Hannibal spoke into Murdock’s ear through his headpiece. Having run hundreds of hot flights in nam, and hell, even out of it Murdock hauled the rust chopper over and away from the missiles and gunfire, and out of range for Hannibal as he stuffed bullets back into his mounted gun. The sound of sea rose up to meet Murdock over the roar of the blades and he banked towards it. The bank didn’t agree with the chopper however and the sudden loss of altitude had Hannibal asking questions over the comms.   
“Steering function is limited colonel, evasive maneuverers will be rough but we’ll make do.” The mad man spoke back to him. He never had been mad, not when he was flying. Not when he was flying hot. And Hannibal knew it. The professional side of Murdock, the sane side always beckoned whenever they really were in a situation, the captain of the group.   
“roger.” Hannibal replied. without further prompting, Murdock scanned the area, the sea coming up to meet them, the cliffs at the far end, the dunes to his immediate left, he was weighing his options when Hannibal signalled he was ready to fire. Pulling and pushing on the angry joke the captain yanked the chopper back into position in front of the chopper behind them, the military grade chopper with read artillery. Murdock suddenly realised this and knew without a miracle shot from Hannibal right into the motor to stop the blades this chopper would either go down by its own rust bucket behaviour or be shot down, he wasn’t going to wait for that god sent shot, not as he was banking hard to outmanuver their shots. More missiles whistled through the air, the joke screamed, the panelling smoked and the gauges whirred out of control. Well almost out of control. Murdock slapped a hand on a few to calm them and himself down, but there was no need, Murdock was free, free from his mind as it let his body through to feel the wind and fly, really fly. Murdock’s face split into a grin as he flew through yet more smoke and sand showing that he had dodged another missile. He kept low to the beach, almost able to reach down and touch the sand rolling beneath, he wanted to keep low so if they did go down it wouldn’t be that much of a drop, he also wanted the chopper behind to think they had limited lift so he pulled up then sank down a couple of times in protest of the blades to make them think he was trying desperately to get away. So that they would fall right into his trap. He kept the real limitations to himself as he had been taught, never show your enemy how to beat you, bluff, bluff and bluff again until you use their knowledge against them. This strategy he used almost daily.   
Murdock thought faintly back to words BA had told him about hitting the gym so he would have no trouble with those bigger than him. The thought made him smile wider, this was all the gym work he needed, his heart was thundering, wanting to break free from its cage, and fly, fly. His arm was burning with the effort to keep the chopper in stern line, any wrong movement and they were so close to the ground that it would be completely his fault if they lost, and as for beating those bigger than him- a missile exploded in a burst of flame right where he wanted it to. He flew through the flames. “hold on colonel!” he almost burst the joke completely from its socket as he grappled it back in a rowing maneuverer and the helicopter shot up, almost doing a barrel roll, but not. The chopper behind them took the bait and flew into the smoke, not knowing that there was a cliff greeting them on the other side, thinking it must be still far away since Murdock couldn’t pull up. They met the wall much like the missile as Murdock flew out through the smoke and into the clear sky beyond, much like he recalled, Vietnam. But unlike what normally happened when he recalled that time, the smell of napalm, the screams that would defend him still to this day, nothing but the sound of the sea, rotor blades and this colonels cheering filled his head. A tear escaped his eye as he looked out, to the horizon, wishing he could fly forever. He wiped it away as he turned the chopper gently away from the sight and the memories, back to reality and land.   
“Right, now let’s set this rust bucket down before she falls apart, billy get down from there! Colonel Can you get billy out of the cock pit please.” Hannibal’s wide grin and accompanying cigar jumped into his peripheral vision.   
“come on billy you know better.” He made a good show of picking up the dog that wasn’t there and carrying him off the chair before sitting in it himself. Murdock kept his eyes on the land that was running beneath them, looking for anywhere flat enough he could set down the tired chopper, hopefully close to where the rendezvous point. Almost queued the gauges spun and bleeped loudly, Murdock rolled his eyes and through up his free hand in exasperation much to the colonels alarm.  
“What’s wrong Murdock?” Murdock made no move to beat hen into submission, he ignored them entirely, even as something began to emit the distinct smell of bacon left to caramelise.  
“I would say nothing Hannibal but it looks like everything, it’s ok though,” he slipped into his airline voice. “Only on lady luck cruises do the passengers see first-hand how to land a broken craft.” He slipped back to normal as the chopper gave a jolt but payed no head as Hannibal throughout an arm to steady himself. “It’s been playing up this whole time, my arms gonna be the size o BA’s when I land.” He continued towards the rendezvous point when an alarm when off somewhere and the yoke jumped so wildly that it looked like it might come free. Murdock’s second hand flew to help the first but that was all that was flying. “No thrust ability able, the back fins are jammed. Colonel, throw out the rope, we can still hover.” The colonel knew Murdock had complete authority over passengers on his craft and wanted it that way for a reason. He wasted no time throwing out a rope in the back over the side where his gun lay still smouldering in its mount. “Rope down captain.” “Rodger, lowering, I’ll signal when to drop.” The chopper almost freefell for a second where Hannibal lost his feet and fell to the floor before Murdock yanked the chopper to leash. “I don’t think we’ll be able to make a clean landing colonel so as a precaution go down the rope, I’ll see you on the other side.” “Rodger, I don’t care how you do it captain but I want you out this chopper and on the floor in five minutes, that’s an order.” He then pulled the comm helmet off and slid down the rope to the sloped ground beneath and ran out of the way. Only one clear did he turn and signal to Murdock and see the true extent of the damage. The rear fin was completely immobile and black smoke was belching from the rotor engine. Murdock signalled back then began a painfully slow dissent that was more like a fight between the chopper and the pilot on both their trajectories to go up and down. The copper bucked violently forwards and without the rear fin Murdock couldn’t correct it so the chopper began to spin. Hannibal took the cigar from his mouth as he stared, unable to do anything, he looked round wildly for anything to help, but there was nothing but grass.  
Murdock began to sing as he loved to, an old country tune as he flicked buttons on and off to try and stabilise himself but without the rear fin there was really nothing. Nothing but one choice, a crazy choice, it suited him to a T. he pulled up on the yoke, his arm ready to give out totally but the chopper rose, and rose, as did his voice.  
Hannibal could hear the old tune he was sure he had heard him sing before a long time ago being yelled from the cockpit as the spinning chopper rose and rose. It had rose high enough that he couldn’t hear it anymore when the chopper stopped. And in a heart lurching second Hannibal saw it fall. His cigar broke in his hand as he rushed away, knowing the chopper would roll on impact and found one of the many small indents in the ground to be good cover. Peeking his eyes over and through the grass he saw the chopper fall, its spinning reduced by the lack of turning blades and the body now flat as the wind pushed it to be horizontal. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the burst of flames and hear the song end. But it didn’t.  
Murdock was still singing when the blades fired up once more barely five metres from the ground and Murdock held altitude like he had hit flat ground. The colonel popped his head up to see the chopper completely level and slowly attempt to travel that lest five metres to the ground. He was barely a meter down however when the engine let out a burst of flame and shut down completely, Murdock did stop singing then. In a flurry of motion he ran from the cockpit, the lack of yoke control sending the chopper to immediately roll sideways, away from the open door Murdock jumped out of, landing away from the chopper and rolling before getting up and sprinting away. But there was no need, without the blades at full capacity the broke on the rocks and the chopper smashed and rolled away, dead, finally given up.  
The colonel jogged over to where Murdock was panting and stretching out his arm. He whistled at the wreck. “Phewee, that was a close one colonel glad I got billy out in time.” He leaded down to pet the air. “Captain,” Hannibal shook his head. “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen you pull off.” Murdock looked up, not sure whether to smile or not. “If I wasn’t disavowed I would give you a promotion for what you just pulled.” Murdock decided it was a smile moment and straightened. “All in a day’s work colonel, you can call me major if you want but I don’t think BA will like it.” “No I don’t think he will either, sometimes I forget captain.” “What’s that colonel?” “Sometimes I forget just what we do, how we do it, the messes we get out of. I think if we were still on active duty with the stunts we’ve pulled, we would get medals.” “See I’ve never gone out thinking of that though colonel, neither have any of us you know that.” “Yes, that’s why we would get them that are why we would disserve them. You know sometimes I wish we could get this criminal thing sorted, were not bad men.” “I know that colonel, through all the shit we’ve been through and we get labelled as criminals, all the good we do and we’re hunted down. But you know colonel.” “What Murdock.” “We know were good men.” The smell of burning oil and grass was blown away by the salt scent of the sea. “That’s what keeps me sane.” Hannibal laughed but Murdock just held that grin he always had, this eyes fixed on Hannibal and as he looked back into them Hannibal understood. Yes this man was insane, but not as insane as he should be. “You’ve done great work today captain.” “eh colonel I thought I was a major now, I’ve got a whole speech and party organised already, all my friends are coming, that nurse who gives me apple pie, that one doctor who didn’t prescribe me those pills that make me sleep, granted I did try and bite his hand off but he’s really funny.” Hannibal laughed once more as they walked away from the sea and the chopper, towards where BA, face and Tanya where waiting with the Arab. “I think BA would punch me, and I don’t want that.” “No, no I think he would punch me and we don’t want that either, the peanuts I’ve been storing up my nose might come loose then I’ll never get to make that joke I was wanting to.” “What joke Murdock.” “Oh you’ll see.” Murdock smiled, took off his hand and ran a hand through his sweat wet hair before putting it back on; he stretched his hand again, thinking back to BA’s gym idea. Nah, he definitely didn’t need to.


	3. acrylics on canvas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of 2:20 when all the teams pretty beat up, but like in normal 80's tv fashion no one ever seems to bat an eye, well I did.

The collective team let out a sigh as they finally sat back in the van, free from the mission’s craziness and decker’s heavy fire. Hannibal lit, and took long drag of his cigar before speaking. “Well, that went-““awful.” Face but in, his head tiled back with both hands on his broken nose, dried blood was flaking on his black mercenary disguise, blood was flaking on all their disguises in fact. “ah face, don’t be like that it could have gone a lot worse and you know it, remember that time in Algeria?” the team moaned in unison followed by a sharp wince from Murdock who was driving the van. His free hand gingerly felt at his black clad side. “Docs won’t be happy back at the VA, that’s ad least four broken. Hannibal grimaced for him and looked into the back where BA was holding an ice pack to his head, the team had decided multiple head injuries and driving don’t mix well and they had had enough trouble for one day, much to the protest of BA. Murdock adjusted himself in the seat to try and get comfortable but found little reprieve. “We should look for somewhere to stay for the night, face do you want to get the map out.” “That won’t be necessary captain,” Hannibal supplied, smoke curling around his head. “We’ll go through the night, there are enough of us that we’ll take it in turns, I’m not taking any chances.” Murdock nodded at this but Hannibal could see how his eyes were lidded and heard how little he spoke. “We’ll get something to eat on the road then continue, I’ll take the night you should all get some sleep.” A leader should always keep his troops in good condition both mentally and physically, that was what he had been taught by his long dead mentor, god, he hadn’t thought of him in a long time, but his wisdom still lived on he thought proudly.   
“Sounds good Hannibal. Hey Murdock, just stop in the next town and we’ll get something, I want you away from that wheel, I aint wanting no dents in my van.”  
“Ah BA will you cool it, I’m not gonna crash your van ok.”  
“both of you stop, BA I know your tired and cranky but so are we all, I don’t want any more injuries so keep a lid on it ok, all of you.” Hannibal called sternly, it often seemed to him that he was a mother to all these infants who would whine instead of doing their jobs, sometimes he missed his rank and the attitude the army instilled in its troops, job gets done, no snivelling. BA huffed and the other two remained silent. “I’ll take that as a yes sir right away sir.”  
“Yes colonel.” The instinct drilled in them showed so quickly and briefly, all of them snapping up straighter, even with broken ribs, Hannibal noticed as Murdock’s eye twitched in pain. Yes, he remembered why he liked the army, and why he didn’t, no questions asked.  
They did indeed stop and get quick take away meals in the next town, face managed a wink to the girl on the counter but instead of a blush and her number like usual he got a smile of pity and sympathy, seeing his swollen nose and rapidly darkening eye. “No this won’t do guys,” faced decided as he was about to get in the van once more. “Can someone reset my nose, it’ll have to be done and the longer we wait the harder it’s going to be. No, no not you BA.” He lurched back as BA stepped up with his muscular hands.   
“It’s ok face I’m a doctor I know the ins and outs of the human body.” Murdock stepped up and his voice slipped that tad more educated as he brought an imaginary face mask up and over his mouth. He readied his hands on either side of his nose and inspected it without touching. Face thought faintly that he was actually being professional, that was right before Murdock called for his nurse Jackeline to bring him the walrus blubber from room 8 to make a cast for his nose to heal in. Hannibal smiled which turned into an understanding grimace as he met face’s frightened eyes. Murdock then began to sing in a low booming voice hands shoulders knees and toes with a jazzy ring to it. Hannibal stepped forwards to take Murdock away from faces, well face and to the job himself when blinding pain erupted from his nose. Face had been so focused on Hannibal coming to save him, BA’s patience wearing thin that he hadn’t expected Murdock’s hands to move and snap his nose back into place. he opened his eyes which blurred with tears from his sinuses being so utterly ruined to see Murdock returning to the van, burger in hand and sit in his usual seat. Hannibal and BA was speechless, they looked from face to Murdock then back again.  
“I heard it was better to do it when they’re not expectin’” Murdock called from the van. Hannibal’s face grew once again into a white toothed grin as he shook his head in disbelief but headed to the driver seat.  
“You know what Murdock.” “What’s that face?” “You never fail to surprise us.” Murdock seemed pleased with this and dug back into his burger, his movement causing him to again try and adjust himself in a way which didn’t make his chest move and his bones pull apart. “I told you I was a doctor.” ”doctor of what. Fools.” BA chuckled from the passenger seat. Murdock rolled his eyes. “Thanks Murdock.” “No problem face man.”  
Hours later and the van was cruising along a rainy lamp lit highway, Hannibal was the only one awake or so he thought. Murdock moved again, he had been doing so with his eyes closed so Hannibal had assumed he was just a mover in sleep but when his eyes opened without a hint off that groggy, I’ve just woken up look he knew Murdock had been failing to sleep for hours. Not knowing Hannibal could see him in the rear-view mirror Murdock pulled up the black top he still had on from the mission to reveal an art work of blue and yellow. It crossed his chest, covering it, smothering it. “How did you manage it Murdock?” Murdock didn’t seem at all surprised that the colonel knew he was awake but pulled down his top again. “the big guy BA had a few round with, yeah well he broke faces nose when he came to help me as the guy beat me into the dirk with that gorilla foot o his.” Hannibal winced as Murdock remembered the felling, the sound of his rubs burst and cave in under the boot. “We should get you a cover story, you won’t be yelling for a long time with that and the VA might get suspicious.” “That’s fine ill just act like I’ve cracked and won’t talk at all, no wait that won’t work, I wouldn’t last five minutes.” Hannibal chuckled. “I’ve got it. The neptunians have infiltrated my room, but they can’t see, they aint got no eyes right. So I gotta keep quiet, only whisperin’ allowed.” Hannibal shook his head at the ludicrous plan, but Murdock smiled faintly. Murdock sat there thinking of all that he would do and say to keep the VA and the MP’s out of his hair, there had to be a place that was concrete, somewhere the team if it really did go bad could come, a way he could get out. He hated the doctors, always talking down to him like he was dumb, he wasn’t, he wasn’t dumb. He was sick, he knew that but even the doctors couldn’t help, couldn’t help when the smell of blood and rot filled his nose and he saw things that weren’t there, that could touch and hurt only him. “We’re almost at the hospital anyway Murdock, better get your stuff. A hospital, he really loved this team, his family, even BA had his moments, it was them that rally helped him. It was this job that kept him toeing the line, getting out of the hellhole that was the head he was strapped to, he loved it when they played along, didn’t act like he was some terrifying beast gone wrong, like he wasn’t human, even when he himself knew it was an asylum, where things where chained up and forgotten, not a hospital where booboos were made better again.  
The van slowed to a stop, and not wanting to wake the others, Murdock told Hannibal that it was fine and he would get in on his own. “Say good bye for me, and don’t forget to call. Oh and if you come round remember to bring those dog treats billy likes.” “I will captain, now you lay down and take it easy, let yourself heal ok.” Murdock laughed before he could stop himself and firmly clapped a hand over his mouth before checking… the were still asleep. He opened the door slowly and got out, turning only to wave the colonel off, to the protest of his ribs of course. The van drove off and Murdock turned towards the building of white, the manicured garden, the barred windows. A voice told him don’t go, just keep on walking past. Another said, where would you go, where else do you have but this. This prison with a garden in the back and screaming inside. Hats not true yet another voice pipped up. There’s screaming in here too. Murdock walked forwards, focusing on his breathing which always calmed him, it was shallow he noticed, due to the flame what would lick its way up his chest every time a cool breath of air was taken in. he passed the front desk, giving the night guard a smile and walked all the way to his room before he heard another guard approach. “Murdock, where have you been this time.” The guard, taller than he was, and bigger held the stance in the door way so there was no escape. “I went to Neptune, it’s nice this time of year, there tacos really are splendid but they only gave me vegetarian ones, I don’t know why.” He spoke in a small and distant voice to help the guard leave, to sell the story. “the guard was taken aback, then shook his head, his shoulders dropping to a casual height before dismissing him as the crackpot he was who liked to escape and go on long walks, sometimes for weeks. “Go to sleep Murdock, its way past lights out.” Yes, lights out, one of the few things here that kept him grounded that militaristic use of time. Murdock stared at the wall opposite him, the light from the lamp hitting it in different ways al the rain on the window diffracted it. He lay on his bed, which was more comfortable than sitting but still caused hurt, hurt that wouldn’t go away.  
He awoke to that pain, and one of the doctors opening the door. It was still raining. “Murdock, welcome back,” his happiness annoyed Murdock. “Where did he get to this time?” “Neptune, it rained a lot, kinda like here.” The smallness of his voice startled the doctor who was much more used to the flamboyant and loud Murdock; he took out his pencil and readied his clipboard. “How are we today Murdock?” “kinda sore actually, I think those neptinians must have realised I was from a different planet and kicked me out, that’s why I’m here.” “Sore? Where are you in pain?” Murdock lifted his top, now his own to reveal the lattice of bruising. “My god who? How?” “I don’t know, I must have forgotten again.” Yes he remembered now, the neptunians, who were purple with tentacles had found that his tentacles where really just rubber and kicked him out, he flew the rocket back to earth and saw the stars, it was really a good thing he had gone but he didn’t remember being attacked, maybe there was a malfunction in the craft or-“oh yes I remember, they threw me out a window, I landed in a skip that really stank, like eh, it was bad, you don’t want to kn-“ “yes Murdock I think that’s enough, would you like to go to the infirmary or breakfast first.” “Is there any tacos, tacos with that neptunian sauce they had?” Murdock sat up in excitement then quickly regretted it as his ribs stabbed him in pain. “There is no neptunian sauce Murdock, and no one who lives on Neptune, I think you better go to the inf-““what! Then how did I get so bashed up, where have I been, I was there honest, I remember the smell, the feel of it, I know it was real.” “It wasn’t Murdock, but your injuries are, report to sick bay.” Murdock was sure he had been on Neptune, the dancing, he had even seen a film when he was there, how could it not be real. A voice he knew spoke once more in his ear, the neptunians know who you are, no one will believe you, they’ll find you and make you spill the beans on the A-team. No, it couldn’t be. But he knew it was right. He would have to limit all talks with them, w=give them the signal somehow that he was compromised, the neptunians had come.  
By the end of the week his ribs were no better, worse even. He was held in a straight jacked and yelling at anyone who would listen that they were in danger, the neptunians would kill them if they knew they talked, they knew HM Murdock.  
Sometimes Murdock is sane, sometimes he isn’t, it’s the times he isn’t that keep him in the VA who don’t know how to help him or simply don’t care. They don’t know that the thought of clear open skies and the sound rotor blades make him snap back to reality. The clap on the shoulder from a handsome man, the dirty remarks from another and the words of his superior officer pull Murdock away from that part of his mind that likes to take control, whether he likes it or not.


	4. grease and grammar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> set during 3: 13 when murdock turns out to be a great cook, also reminded me of his other hidden talents, sorry no whump today

“you know Hannibal, just when I think I’ve got a grip on Murdock he pulls something else out of thin air.” face shook his head in disbelief as he passed the colonel who was heading in the opposite direction; towards the smell of herbs and sound of sizzling. “Captain you will have to tell me how you learned to cook like this, face wasn’t lying when he said you would make a good wife.” Hannibal absently asked while stirring the soup of the day- carrot and coriander from the colour. “Aah, ‘annibal you do not theenk one develops such a perfect French accent wizout going there to ah, sample, ze cuisine, non?” Murdock smiled and flipped a burger whilst looking Hannibal in the eye. “Really?” Hannibal was intrigued now; he took the cigar from his mouth to ask more clearly. “I never knew you had been to France.” “In my youth yes, my grandparents had friends from the war, they taught me French, it goes down well talking to French people in a language they understand.” “So you can actually talk French, it’s not just random words that you spell out all the time.” He gestured with his hand. Murdock turned with a comical o shaped mouth but his eyes held that glint of humour. “Why of course not colonel, it’s much harder to scam as French without knowing French now isn’t it.” Hannibal nodded in agreement as another order was shouted through from the waitress which had hired them to keep this small restaurant open.  
“You know colonel,” Murdock began to move away from the burgers to start whisking eggs together for the freshly ordered pancakes. “This is one of the best times I’ve had on a job in ages, I wish I got to cook more at the VA, maybe I could do dinner one night for everyone, I would actually make it how they want. Peanuts and jelly, mustard in the custard for that added whoompf, I remember one guy who had an episode because he really wanted his mashed potatoes with sprinkles.” Hannibal closed his eyes, yes there were definitely depths to his captain, but there was something which sometimes he forgot when they were in the thick of it, when the jazz was the smell of smoke around them; Murdock was a mental patient, and it was times like these when he remembered. “That sounds like a good idea Murdock.” There was a sizzle as the pancake mix hit the hot plate then Murdock was moving again to turn the patties. “Say, just how many languages can your speak?” the chef paused for a second then answered as he walked away, an order of coffee in his hand. “Uh, six, that I know of.” “Six!” Hannibal almost dropped the cigar he had just returned to his mouth. “What do you mean ‘that you know of’?” “Well,” he threw paprika onto the burgers. “I once had a really bad headache, like a full day you know, like you can’t see headache and I could speak and read Chinese after it.” There wasn’t a hint of a lie in Murdock’s too wide eyes. Hannibal blew out a laugh but before he could retort Murdock beat him to the punch line. “Honest, ask face, remember that job we had with that Chinese gangster, face knows I can read Chinese.” “I’ll be sure to ask him.” Hannibal then turned away from the captain who raised more questions than answers whenever he wanted to ask and followed the hallway to the backdoor and the van that waited behind it. Sure enough face was standing next to BA, not wanting the grease of the kitchen to mar his fresh pressed suit. “Face,” the young man looked up from his paper. “Can Murdock speak Chinese?” “Yeah I heard it, reads it too, that’s how I know, read that threat that was on the wall at that Chinese gangster’s house.” “Nah, I’m not buying it,” BA piped up from the wheels where he was checking the pressure. “How do you know that it was him actually translatin’ or him just spouting jibberjabber like he does, thinking he can speak Chinese?” “It seemed pretty real to me.” “Well I guess there’s no way of knowing just now and we’ve got other things to focus on. Come on, lets load up and go hit those slimeballs.” Hannibal lit his cigar again and hopped into the shotgun seat. “We’ll leave Murdock to cover the restaurant and call if anyone comes knocking.”


	5. I didn't order this cocktail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> during the events of 4:11, great episode, seeing alot of great episodes for murdock this season. anyway, during a scene I think there could of been more appreciation for mental illness than there is in an 80's show, don't you?

There was a prick on the back of his shoulder, then the memorable intense pain he knew to be a needle. Shit, ‘knock him out’ they had said. But instead of the quick feeling of drowsiness he normally got when sedated or the rapid unconscious he had been both administered and administering- mostly to BA he found nothing. Nothing until the room started to slide out of focus. He thought a split before his mind started to talk slowly to him that you should never mix medicines, he had already had his dose for today, this could be a sedative that didn’t sit too well with his gut. As the room spun he could smell something. Smoke. Fire. Sure enough there was burning not too far from him, the heat came slowly to his face then it was burning him. He jolted up and away, into a cabinet to which a door had been carelessly left open, bottles fell out and smashed on the floor, each landing he saw exploded, filling his ears and his head. Cover, run cover. He lunged behind something large and solid, a desk. The liquid had looked like something else, something he had seen before; knew to get away from. He rushed, not knowing why but knowing he had to move quickly and ran into something. He looked at it was it touched him, smacking his face, his hands, his legs, a tree, a bush. He couldn’t get out there was too much. And what was that sound. A chopper, yet the steady thunder of a take-off, he looked toward the deafening sound and saw one though bright light made him blink and stumble, back into the undergrowth. The undergrowth, the heat, the sound. ‘nam. He was in ‘nam. That’s why he had to be quick, Charlie was on him. He battled to get past the bush that had ensnared him, fighting past to his a cloud of smoke, it would give away his position, he stumbled past, his legs not wanting to comply, they were slow, they must be in mud, so he pulled his legs up high in every step to get through it till he saw flames, something small was burning, something important some small part of him knew. He moved to stamp it out. He kicked and it exploded in flames. The nose was real. The blinding light was real. The sound was real. He was dropping bombs on Charlie. No, that was a friend that had just been shot down and he was next. He gave up, the fire now out, the explosions faded as he moved away, towards a door. Yes a solid door, he opened it and he was in a hospital. Safe. His mind knew one thing he had to be safe. Safe meant get the team. Face had a place not too far, yes the address lingered in his mind and he said it again and again so it wouldn’t fade. A phone. He stumbled out, almost falling but braced himself on the opposite was, white. Everything was so white. Was he dead? No, he could smell smoke and his mouth was dry, he was wet, you couldn’t feel so much when you were dead could you. people came past him, looked then continued as he held the wall to keep him upright as the floor beneath him slid and slided to and fro. Charlie. He remembered then ducked instinctively, he was out in the open, he had to stay hidden, get out, get to safety.  
His survival instinct brought him to fresh air, bright light. Outside he registered. But there was noise, such noise. It’s not real he said even though he could hear the roar of helicopter engines, the rattle of machine gun fire. He looked around and sure enough nothing was there that would be making the sound. Phone. Get a phone. He lurched back into motion, falling a few times on what had to be the dense jungle undergrowth. There, ahead of him was a box, on one blink it looked like a coffin, one that he had been in once, one he didn’t want to go back in. there was sudden movement and sound and his legs jumped to cover behind a bush to his left. Peering over it he saw the car that went past, he was sure it sounded like an enemy chopper, his right hand twitched to turn the joke away in an evasive movement to get away from its artillery both there was no guns he could see in the car. It passed and so did the sound of chopper blades. He looked forward to the coffin and saw past it. Another car, an ambulance. He said the address again, his tongue starting to droop. He said the address into the receiver. “Yes help, there’s been an accident.” “Sir have you been drinking.” “Of course I haven’t, now please hurry.” He hang up, or more his hand fell and the receiver just so happened to be there. He turned and battled his was out, the glass door suddenly reminded him of another cage where he could see outside, smell it, but not touch. His stomach gave a large boom of pain. He had been punched again, he would be puking up blood again, “dừng lại!” there was no more pain. That had never worked before, no matter how he had pleaded, they had never stopped, just moved to some new weapon, he had to escape while there backs were turned. He slammed the door open and ran towards the ambulance, bursting the back door open and leaping inside, jumping under the covers of the stretcher-bed, he then slowed his breathing, if they heard him they would find him, they would drag him back and punish him, pull out more nails. Before long two voices rose but he didn’t understand their language. “Well that’s the first today, I don’t know what’s happened, the caller didn’t say anything so it’s stroke or heart attack so they couldn’t say much, step on it.” The wheel s peeled away as the ambulance jerked into motion. The motion sickened him as his stomach tightened and bile filled his throat, but he swallowed it down. The driver and companion continued talking and he couldn’t tell what they were saying, maybe he had been captured again. And no one knew where he was. He didn’t know where he was. He had never heard a language like that before, where was he, what were they going to do to him. Where were his friends, where were the rest of the team. Face, he had a place just now, if he got there he would be safe. As if queued the driver said the address that had formed in him mind, they were taking him to face. He had to keep quiet, even when he wanted to shout at all the screaming and gunfire in his ears to stop.  
And stop they did. Not the screams but the engine. The men in the front dashed out with the first aid kit in the front. Now was his chance, he kicked to get the cover off him, but it latched on, he was bound, tied, they had known he was here. He kicked again and the bonds came loose, falling to the floor, he was about to slam the door open when he stopped completely in his tracks. He couldn’t breathe. He tried but couldn’t remember how. It was a sucking in motion wasn’t it, your tummy went in and your chest went out. Some air went in. yes, keep on going. He looked round wildly for the cause of his breathing malfunction, only seeing a stretcher-bed and a can of O2, but they were waving, coming in and out of focus, sliding around. Water, I must be underwater. He moved his arms to get to the surface but moved nowhere. Something screamed in the back of his mind, urgency. He grabbed the O2 can and held the mask to his face taking in an explosive gasp of air. He then opened the door, fumbling with the latch and fell out.  
“Accident? No there was no- oh that was just shelly here, fainted but she’s fine now, she had just been exerting herself over reading these lines see, there’s nothing wrong but uh, thanks for coming anyway, you’re the pride of the country you know that., what a great service.” The first responders seemed pleased enough, they had had false alarms before, and this one had seemed in good faith anyway. They turned away and face closed the door to hear shelly scream out and Murdock fall to the floor beside her, his can of O2 falling from grasp. “Murdock?!” face rushed over, turning the man to find him utterly unconscious. “I’m sorry shelly but I’m afraid you’ll have to go, this is my cousin Gerard, he’s a narcoleptic is all, he’ll be fine but we won’t manage to do anymore lines today.” Shelly was so shocked that she made no move to stay, grabbing her coat and rushing out of the house to leave face and Murdock alone. Face found his pulse in the column of his neck, erratic, not so good, but everything else seemed fine, no wounds, his breathing was steady, was completely still with only a slight paleness to his skin, probably from the rapid pulse. Maybe he ran here is all? Never the less he knew to trust his gut, knowing he had ridden stowaway in that ambulance, that something wasn’t right. Why was he passed out in his lobby? He called the rest of the team.  
Hannibal was the first to arrive since he was on the other side of town. “Is he awake?” “No, I’ve put him in the spare room, upstairs to the left.” Hannibal nodded and the two men ascended the fine oak staircase in the fine villa face had managed to get, all for ‘free’. “I don’t know what’s wrong Hannibal but something isn’t right here, he comes in and just drops on the carpet, no note, no phone call.” “I have the same feeling face.” Hannibal extracted the cigar from his mouth, holding it in one hand while the other pushed open the door quietly to as not to wake or scare, they had once crashed into the room Murdock was in, the following had resulted in two unconscious men and a put off BA who hadn’t liked the Murdock had kicked him in the face. Hannibal took one look at the empty bed then took out his gun, “I’ll take downstairs.” Sure enough Hannibal reinserted the cigar and hurried as quietly as he could to the lower level. After clearing the living room and dining room he found Murdock sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, holding his head in his free hand while he ate something in front of him. “Murdock, found him face.” Murdock turned, his eyes screwed up like it was too bright. “What’s this fuss about captain?” Murdock slid off the high chair and stood there for a second, as if he thought he had wobbled, or if he had forgotten what he was supposed to do when he got off the chair. “Sorry colonel, quickest place I could get to that I knew was clean.” Murdock rubbed his eyes, then kept on rubbing them when face walked in. “Murdock, come and say something when you wake up next time, someone could have snatched you for all we knew.” “Sorry face, it’s not me who got snatched, it was my shrink.” “Your shrink?” Hannibal questioned, moving closer and letting face come through the doorway. Murdock stopped rubbing his eyes as Hannibal did this and almost casually moved the step that Hannibal had made, away from his friends. Hannibal caught this. “Yeah, broke in and snatched him.” Hannibal started noticing more, the captain was quiet, normally he would be going into analogies, and metaphors, slipping into accents and telling more about the kidnappers. He wasn’t being flamboyant but staying very still, very unusually still. And those eyes he kept on rubbing, they were bagged, like he hadn’t been sleeping, and they didn’t look at either of them for longer than they needed to, like he was hiding something. “Face said you weren’t injured.” Hannibal asked tentatively, edging closer, Murdock countered. “Nah I don’t think so.” “You don’t think so?” “Yeah, I can’t remember much.” Hannibal stopped, and noticed the paleness of his skin. “Why don’t you come and sit down Murdock you don’t look so good.” “Naw, I’m not feelin’ too great either.” Murdock didn’t take Hannibal’s arm though which he offered but rather moved past him through into the sitting room. Hannibal watched as he swayed slightly and basically fell into the sofa. “They drugged me with somethin’, don’t know what, I think I remember them saying it would knock me out but it didn’t. Probably cos they don’t know which drugs to give, you can’t just give everyone on a mental ward the same thing, some don’t work; some don’t mix well with the other drugs they take.” Face who was catching on gave Hannibal a quick glance then sat slowly down on the same couch, far enough from the pilot so that he didn’t feel the need to scoot away. “Didn’t react to it well.” Murdock swallowed. “Well then captain, you have to tell us if you feel any worse, we don’t want something bad to happen ok.” Hannibal now understood, giving his pilot who already hallucinates more reason to do so, not a class A idea. “I know they snatched dr richer though, I know that was real.” The way Murdock stared into Hannibal’s eyes made him understand further, it hadn’t been a nice trip from the captain. “This is real Murdock, you managed to get to face’s, there’s no one else here but us, it looks like the drugs worn off some so tell us what happened.” “No I don’t know about that colonel,” he shifted, pulling his arms tighter around himself. “It’s not as bad, I think I slept some off, but I’m not too certain I am where you say I am, what’s to say I wasn’t actually captured by those guys.” By the manic terrified look in Murdock’s eyes Hannibal and face knew this was no joke, no eccentricity, this was a real moment of insanity, one they had to get through. Hannibal can count on his hands how many times he has thought Murdock actually was insane, the times he had cracked under something which triggered his PTSD which sent him into survival mode and made him completely shut out anything he or the team tried to do to show he was safe, he knew it was because he wasn’t seeing what was really there in those moments. “Would it help if we told you thinks only you would know?” face offered helpfully. Murdock was utterly still for a second. “I don’t know it proves you’re not bad guys but how am I to know I’m not the one who’s thinkin’ it?” Hannibal had to commend Murdock’s use of logic, even when his brain was working without a carburettor. “ok Murdock, there’s no way that I can see to help you believe this is real so I suggest you go back upstairs and sleep it off, we’ll wake you when BA arrives.” Murdock nodded, or at least let his head lol down and up. Right then, I’ll help you up the stairs, face, can you get some dinner on the go?” face didn’t need another reason to excuse himself. Hannibal offered an arm to Murdock which he accepted after clearly deliberating. Hannibal was surprised by just how much Murdock was swaying, even when looking at the floor all the way to his room. Hannibal didn’t know how Murdock had managed to get here when this was the drug at lower concentration, maybe he gave the captain less credit, he had shown time and time again that he was just as capable of planning and direct execution as he was. “Thanks Hannibal, can you get me some water.” Hannibal nodded and set Murdock down on his bed, tucking him under the covers, now that he had been allowed closer he saw how dilated his eyes were, how ashen his skin was with a sheen of terror sweat, it had been a bad day for him. “Get some sleep, you’ll feel better.” He was turning away when a hand with a vice grip latched onto his forearm, making him jump and tense, but it was Murdock who looked at him with lucid eyes. “Don’t tell BA.” There was no debate, and there didn’t need to be. “I never do.”


	6. cedar smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my own thought of a time in vietnam and why everyone thinks murdock is the best pilot.

“Well boys were going on a ride.” That was the only sentence that was spoken for the next 10 minutes, the most intense 10 minutes of the rest of the A-teams life. Murdock rolled his head inside his pilot’s helmet, letting out the crack that had been building up in his neck then shifted his hand on the yoke for better purchase. That was also the most casual movement that would happen for the next ten minutes. He sucked in a deep breath of air, shutting his eyes to the fire, smoke and artillery rounds that were bolting past them and when he opened them he yanked the helicopter sideways and down, towards the ground with such speed that the whole team yelped and hung for dear life onto their safety cords. Was grasping his chair and saw the missile that had barely missed them thunder past, leaving a trail of smoke behind it. The world hurtled past in a blur of black and blood and fire. The screams and sounds of metal exploding weren’t drowned out by the blades of the chopper, nothing drowned them out. The helicopter and pilot were one Hannibal thought vaguely as he looked right upon yet another harsh change of direction. He had never seen Murdock so quiet, so completely in control and so focused. With every movement from both the joke and his legs he could feel the chopper give in, give in to Murdock’s superior sense of air currents, through the flames and into cold air. He would almost call it art, if he hadn’t reminded himself that just passed the thin sheets of metal all around him was hell.   
Face was being thrown from left to right, up and down, he could barely wonder why they were moving in such a way before a spurt of gunfire or a missile missed them by inches, again. He couldn’t help yelling as Murdock pulled out of the eye watering dive they had taken so quickly he felt his neck muscles burn. There was an almighty crash and a flash of light but they had already moved away, up, and away from the VC chopper that had been hounding them, the one Murdock had laid his trap for. Up they flew, higher and higher until the smoke was so thick the men around him began coughing. “Artillery major?” “Still out.” It seemed Murdock had only come all this way up, risking being smoked out to get some cover while he asked the quick question. Sure enough the helicopter banked down again as face looked towards the gun turret, the gun was bent in several places from being hit by a friendly chopper as it fell past them, the crew inside bloody and crying for help. That had been five minutes ago, right when they had been ambushed by a whole squadron of Charlie, both from the air and the ground.  
A boom rang out and dirt found its way into the chopper from the ground far below, it was wet with what the major knew was blood and not rain. Gunshot sounded from behind him and he ducked his head behind the wreck of the gun turret but no fire hit him as Murdock banked hard but lifted the chopper upwards. Before he could believe his eyes he was looking into the Charlie cockpit, looking down the barrel that was aimed at them, then they were out of range as Murdock pulled up further where the gun couldn’t point then flipped so that the rotor blades almost touched over to the other side of the VC chopper where they weren’t expecting, then rammed into their side with the landing struts, sending them careening into a missile that was coming towards them from another helicopter the major hadn’t even seen. The chopper exploded, the wave sending their chopper a little to the left but Murdock used the propulsion to his advantage, flying away from the new enemy and into less smoke so he could see.  
Hannibal’s mouth was agape letting the dry air parch his throat. He had never even known a chopper could tumble. But he was proved wrong again as Murdock punched headfirst towards a Charlie chopper that had spotted them. He could hear the blades of the other Charlie behind them. They were going to crash, there was nowhere to go. But Murdock didn’t let up, he was going to take them with him, he was insane. Or so Hannibal thought. One last push and Murdock pushed the yoke so hard forward the engine let out a burst of surprise. The chopper in front had stopped, not knowing what was going on, he heard the pfft of a missile being launched. Then Murdock spun once more so instead of colliding headfirst into the VC he touched landing struts with them. Instead the VC missile hit one of their own and once again Murdock used the propulsion of the explosion to push them further away from harm, though still upside down.  
Face was about to shout to turn them over, not knowing how much longer he could last hanging from his safety line which was anchored around his crotch when Murdock politely righted the chopper once more. He dared to look behind him, then on either side. There was nothing. They were starting to clear the smoke. Face let out a breath, he was right way up again, his crotch was free, there were no Charlie. If he had a dime for every time he spoke too soon he was sure he wouldn’t need to scam anything. There was a wining sound. Like a violin on its highest note. Murdock looked around and visually paled, his eyes widening. He then once again slammed the rest of his team against the sides of the chopper as he banked to evade the- the… heat seeker. Face recognised it, a heat seeking missile, one of the Charlie must still be out there with one final card up their sleeve for the chopper which had taken down so many without firing a single shot. How could they be free of a heat seeker? Face closed his eyes to the burning trees, the mud and the gore and prayed, prayed to anyone that would hear that it would be a quick death, not one where he fell for 200 metres with no guts only to splat on the ground, no pain, please.  
But Murdock had no room for prayers even as the major’s thought travelled to his wife, the family he had wanted to start. Murdock’s evasive manuver had bought time, but only seconds. He banked again, making the missile fly out of reach, it didn’t have the agility of the huey but it kept on coming back for more. Murdock dove towards the ground. He kept on diving, he could almost count the individual blades of grass before Murdock will a roar pulled the yoke with both hands, making them roll away and up out of their dive. The major waited for the sound of the missile’s impact, the tell-tale boom but none came. They skimmed the grass with the landing struts but the missile hadn’t taken the bait. It was still on them. He could see Murdock snarl, his mouth curling up almost animalistic as he looked around desperately, but there was only smoke and mud. Yet the huey jumped into motion, banking in evasive manuvers but hurtling towards a large plume. He pulled up. “Deep breath!” he yelled over the shelling, the blades and the wind that whistled in the missiles fins. The major obeyed, not asking questions like they had been trained to and Murdock yet again spun over and fell towards the earth. Freefall would have been less stomach crunching as he would have stayed at a good speed, but here they were sprinting towards the ground, towards their death through smoke so thick the major had to shield his stinging eyes.  
Murdock couldn’t shield his eyes, he had one shot at this, he had one family and he wouldn’t let them die. Not on his watch. So he stared into the billowing black that stabbed at his eyes as he pushed the huey faster and faster towards the land of mud suckers. He could hear faintly the missile behind him, it was louder, closer. One chance or they would be dead either way. Staring into the darkness he found light, what he had been looking for, the largest plumes of smoke have the largest fires. A great heat source. a little further. The fire came into view. A little further. He could see the wood it was burning. A little further. He could see the individual colours and shapes of the flames. Too far! He pulled the yoke with all his might o go right while he pushed his feet to the pedal, kicking it into going upwards. He couldn’t hear his muscles snap and strain, the heat was on his face, the fire was in his eyes. But it was only heat. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see, it was dark and his vision was foggy. Was he dead.  
How? Hannibal opened his eyes and took in a deep breath of fresh air. He had heard a boom. A missile finding its mark. But death’s air tasted a lot like the warzone he thought he had left. The metallic tang, the mould and dirt soaked smell was heavy in the air. And they were in the air. He could see light as the chopper flew away from the smoke, away towards safety. He looked right and saw Murdock’s head limp on his headrest. “captain.” His voice was too small with all the noise that had been through his ears.  
“Want to go again?” his voice was small too but the laugh that came barking from behind was loud, and beautiful. Face let out another and kept on laughing, tears in his eyes, and then everyone caught on. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this Murdock,” the major called from the back after checking BA who had been unconscious with fear far before the real danger had happened. “But if you hadn’t been so crazy we would all be dead.”  
“All in a day’s work major.” Murdock changed his hands over, the right not wanting to cooperate anymore with all the muscles that had just been torn in it. Hannibal taught on to the motion and thought to himself quietly that the crazed man beside him was the best pilot he had ever seen. Pulling out of dives like that, doing 360 turns with a huey, which he added to himself weren’t built for aerodynamics like that. Yes, crazy, and also the smartest man he knew, and the best god damned dinky dau pilot the air force had ever spat out.


	7. papers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> season 5 murdock is released form the VA, i think we should have had a scene in there dont you?

The paper was white and cool in his hands. The grain was fine and smooth to the touch. The smell was new, not like old books that were musky; these were subtle, sawdust and ink. The ink was black, nothing fancy and the letters weren’t hand written, no, nothing special at all. But there was one word. One word right at the end accompanied by a signature of many curls. Sane. It was beautiful. He had of course seen the word so many times before but it was here in his hands. He could touch it. These papers suddenly opened up the world for him. He could see clouds stained pink, heavy with purple, slowly floating across a horizon of gold. So much gold, no red, never red, only ever undiluted splendour, gold, orange yellow, lighting up the sky and blending into the stars in their pool of midnight above him. He was flying. Higher than the clouds. He could hear nothing but the winds call, come home. He could almost smell that cold air that both tore and caressed his face. His hands shook on the paper and there was no wicked wind to blow away the tear that fell with a splash onto the freshly printed words. Sane. Sane. After thirteen years. Fool, nutcase, crazy, whacko, fruitcake, one screw loose, the words were spirited away and filled with another, one more clear than he had ever heard from the voices that didn’t speak to him anymore. Come home. He closed his eyes, shutting out the office of white and wood. Home. He could fly again. He could go anywhere. He didn’t hear the words his doctor was saying, he could see his smile, and the tears in his eyes too but nothing registered. He went to his room with him. He picked him his t shirts, all of them and put them in the box the doctor had conjured but he wasn’t listening to his babble, he had stopped. And moved over to his window, the window he had jammed open so many times, he wouldn’t need to now. He looked over to his bed where he had placed blankets and shoes to look like him, he wouldn’t need to do that either. He looked to a picture he had on the wall, blue tack, no pins, it was a picture of a sunrise, one that had called to him years ago in a café on a mission. He had stared at it then as he did now. But where once he had longed to see it, to feel the freedom it suggested; now he could. He turned away to see the doctor looking at him proudly, tears in his eyes. He gave him the box with all his worldly possessions. “Are you going to take the photo?” he asked, still smiling happily. “no.” the voice that came out of him was flat, the doctors smile waivered. “I don’t need it anymore.” He lifted his free hand toward the doctor, one that hadn’t given up on him when so many of the ones before had. “Thank you doctor, thank you for bringing me home.” The doctor took his hand in both of his. “I want you to go now, and live.”   
Live. He hadn’t heard that word in a long time. Not really. Everyone had meant alive. Not live. And as he looked one last time into the sparkling grey eyes of the doctor something golden sparked in him again and at last his face broke out into a smile, a smile that seemed to bring colour back into a life he hadn’t realised was so grey.   
Then he walked out of the VA. A free man.


	8. old crowbars are the best crowbars- part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry that its been a long time since upload, i cant find many of the season 5 episodes online to watch which is annoying so this one is a scenario of my own creation and its a two-parter since i though it sounded nicer that way.

The sound shook the concrete that they sat on, the wooden crates that surrounded them and dusted their hair from the cracks it was making on the roof. The three men all flinched into tense fighting positions, or what they could manage while being so thoroughly chained to the unyielding iron shackles. There were more sound, ones that weren’t so powerful but made the men quickly look for any means of escape or way to arm themselves, gunfire, men screaming, men dying. The sound was getting closer.  
“Face don’t you have anything to pick the locks with?” Hannibal kept his voice on a tight leash; he was and always should be the voice of calm and of reasons, to himself and his team.  
“No, they took everything; they even found my backup in my shoe.” Sure enough the colonel had wondered why when they had reunited the men after interrogation the lieutenant had been in nought but his socks.   
“BA?”  
“It’s no use Hannibal.” The cries and thuds were increasing in volume and decreasing in tempo. “The chains are too short, there’s no room to pull proper.”   
“Keep trying.” Hannibal’s mind quickly whizzed through scenarios, ways he could reason with this new situation, but he couldn’t make his best plans, not when he had no idea of the attacker, the new situation that was arising. He hated not knowing. He raised his head and slapped on a casual smile, the one he always used when he both knew and was in the dark about information, a face he had learned from many nights of poker and many hot nights of death.  
There was a thud, the cracking of wood as someone crashed into and broke one of the many crates in the warehouse. More thuds of flesh pounding flesh then the quick tapping of feet jogging towards the door. The tapping sounded tiny bells in Hannibal’s mind which made his eyebrows bunch together. His answer was soon given when the door was merrily knocked by a familiar hand. “Are you boy’s right in front of this door or do I have to break it down?”  
“Murdock! Oh thank god I thought Larry Thomas had found us!” face sagged as Murdock replied through the keyhole. “Naw just little old me.”  
“We’re right in front of the door Murdock, 12 o’clock.”  
“Right colonel.” There was a shot which made BA jump but the door swung open to reveal a slightly bashed helicopter captain. Or what would have been a helicopter Hannibal corrected himself as he saw past Murdock into the adjacent room. The large noise which had shaken the warehouse was the sound of bending metal and a helicopter smashing through the roof to gain entry. Hannibal re-corrected his gaze back to the captain to asses if he had been hurt by the intended crash as BA found his good spirits again.  
“You crazy fool; you don’t shoot a door open when we’s in front of it!” Murdock stopped short and put his hands on his hips, making his leather jacket puff out and obscure the doorway.   
“Yeah BA that’s why I did it at an angle, so I would shoot in this direction,” he pointed animatedly with both hands at the left wall; Hannibal saw a blur of motion behind him. “So I wouldn’t hit anybody.” Unfortunately Murdock found he was hit instead. Hannibal shouted duck just as the crowbar connected solidly with Murdock’s temple causing his baseball cap to fly off out of sight and the captain to crumple to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The man behind him let the crowbar drop to the floor with a clang which was muffled by the three men’s shouts of outrage and spits of rage. The man who Hannibal recognised indeed as Larry Thomas stepped over Murdock’s prone body “thanks for clearing the way for me.” He found no time for sitting around or enjoying more satisfaction in that and immediately set about ruffling through the opened crates to Hannibal’s right. A man of action, not one who could be easily delayed Hannibal deduced. Unless provoked maybe.   
“Need better men to do all the hard work Thomas? Don’t have the guts, or the skills yourself.” Hannibal laid the insult at Thomas’s feet, a hook, one the fish might bite at.  
“No, I just see it as stupid to not take advantage of someone else’s skills.” He hadn’t even looked up from what he was trying to find. Not a fish but a shark. Yet you can still catch sharks if you trolled long enough.  
“What about mark’s skills, they weren’t really on par with us were they? seen as how he ran with his tail between his legs all the way back to his daddy.” He dangled it in front of his face this time. Face and BA had long ago learned to leave Hannibal to sniff out people when playing mind games, Murdock twitched slightly. “Yes you beat my 20 year old son who has no knowledge of in-depth combat.” He turned to look Hannibal in the eye, cold brown met cold blue. “Unlike you.” he turned back, moving on to the next crate. Hannibal knew Thomas was deflecting but it seemed he had a weak spot for his son, or maybe he felt he was responsible for a failure. Either way it was something to stoke or prod at. “Ah, this will do nicely I think.” Face’s eyes narrowed as Thomas pulled a straightjacket from a crate. “Fitting don’t you think?” Thomas flashed a shark smile as he made his way back to Murdock who was starting to come round. Hopefully he would wake up before he was fully buckled in and overpower Thomas, but it became clear to all men that that wouldn’t happen as Murdock was rolled away and blood with it, staining the concrete where his head had just been.   
“He won’t be able to run anyway Thomas what’s the point?” face tried to reason but Thomas only smiled. “I highly doubt that, underestimating the A-team has gotten many lesser men into trouble. Well not me.” Pride, it could be another card for Hannibal to play, he tucked it away into his growing hand against the businessman. Murdock seemed to realise what was happening, or at least remember the feel of another straightjacket as it was slipped onto his arms. He started to try and move, making it harder for Thomas but he was roughly rolled onto his front and Thomas knelt on him to stop him from wriggling. A gasp of pain and a hope to get air in his lungs escaped the captain as his arms were pulled awkwardly back and across his spine, locked and buckled into place. With no use of his arms Murdock pulled up his legs to try and kick Thomas off but there was no room, he only kicked air and the floor as he swung them desperately to stop from being contained, again.  
Satisfied with the work on Murdock’s arms he set to tie his middle tightly together but was obstructed yet again by Murdock’s wriggling. He stamped his foot down on Murdock’s knee. BA sucked in a breath along with Murdock and let out a growl, it wasn’t enough to shatter the kneecap.  
“Stop kicking or you won’t have a knee to kick with.” Hannibal was about to tell the captain to comply but the captain wasn’t as reckless, or foolish as he seemed. He stopped, his other let falling uselessly to the floor. “Good boy.” He yanked the buckles then simply stood up and turned to leave; deeming nothing more needed to be done. “No more men around to save your neck, colonel?” Thomas sneered as he closed the door behind himself. Hannibal didn’t let Thomas see his fear or his anger, he grinned with his teeth barred, his Hollywood smile he called it. A smile good for most things but best for condemning enemies to a shallow grave.  
With Thomas gone Hannibal’s attention went back to Murdock whose hair was growing wet with blood.


	9. old crowbars are the best crowbars  part 2

“Murdock.” Murdock stirred, his face which was pushed to the floor looked up to Hannibal, his eyes were drooping and bloodshot but open. Open, Hannibal repeated in his mind.  
“repor’n for du’y sir.” He slurred, is shoulder jerked, like he had tried to salute.  
“Murdock you need to stay awake got that.” Murdock hummed. “Do you have anything on you face can use as a lock pick?”   
“Knife, pocket.” Again Murdock’s shoulder twitched like he kept forgetting he was in a straitjacket.  
“Right. Murdock you need to get out of the straight jacket, we can’t help you and you can’t help us until then.” Murdock nodded his head which made him cringe in pain. He saw the blood that stained the floor beneath him and felt distantly the drip that was falling down his forehead into his eye.  
“Hannibal, it’s a strait jacket, even if Murdock wasn’t concussed how could he get out?” face queried from beside him with the look of a man who’s last hope had flown away on a breeze.   
“I doubt you’ve seen Murdock get out of a straightjacket then.” Hannibal grinned and sure enough Murdock was pushing herself into a sitting position. He wobbled traitorously, falling into the stack of crates on his right but eventually held himself aloft long enough to level his breathing from his shallow gasps to a trembling long ones. He then used the unbalance to his advantage, forcing his arm to slip up towards his shoulder. With the rest of the team watching anxiously he gritted his teeth and pushed then pulled his arm further up, up, and over his shoulder to his neck. He forgot about the long breaths he had been trying to take to stop himself from hyperventilating and forgot to keep his eyes open as he had a moment to think about what he had to do next. Without sight he felt himself loose balance again and hit the crated he had five minutes ago. His caused his eyelids to pull upward and Murdock to see the worried look from face, the square jaw of BA. He pulled his arm from his neck, up and over his head, earning a stab of pain and a cry from his mouth, but one arm down, too many buckles to go. He used the momentum of his arm to push himself back upright then began to wriggle his arm down and out of the sleeve, towards the buckles and the back of the coat.  
It was physically painful to watch Murdock grow slower and slower at each attempt to unbuckle the many straps.  
“Face, once we’re out me and BA will find Thomas, you get Murdock to a hospital, it’ll be ok if it’s only you, just try to disguise yourself in any way you can, I don’t think we can waste time.” Face nodded.  
“Where do you think Thomas will be Hannibal, I’ve got a fist with his name on it.” Murdock wheezed out a laugh, a good sign for the colonel, maybe the captain would last longer than he thought. The captain wasn’t thinking about how long he could last as the men continues talking and he continues to focus all his energy on the last strap before he could free his other arm. He was trying to keep his eyes open; he was trying to keep his breathing shallow. But with every slip of his sleeve covered hand over the metal buckle the voices faded, the world span, he tasted blood in his mouth. From his lungs or his head he didn’t know, he could even smell it anymore.  
Murdock hit the floor with a thud. The men sat paralysed with fear before, yes, a breath. Face closed his eyes in relief. “What you doing fool?” BA powerfully asked so his voice carried to him. “You aint done yet, get up off your ass this aint no time for slackin’ there’s work that needs done.” Murdock’s eyes fluttered open. “Yeah you better keep lookin at me fool, if I see you sleepin on the job again you’ll be getting it.” Murdock’s lolling mouth twitched up into a half smile, all he could muster as he did continue to look at BA and painfully try to get back into a kneeling position, hard with only one arm free and no sense of balance. Murdock’s vision was clouded and swam as if his eyes were filled with tears. He looked town to where his hand would be but it was covered in the sleeve, which was now covered in blood. Whose blood was it? He looked back at BA he wasn’t bleeding. Where did this blood come from BA’s mouth was moving, he was sure he read fool on his lips but he could hear anything, then he couldn’t see anything. But he could feel. Yes he felt the concrete beneath his hand wrapped in fabric and soiled with liquid, he felt his head get cold, as if it had a door in it that was letting a draught in, and it thumped, a rhythm. Thumpthump, thumpthump. Thumpthump. Thump thump. The thumping lulled him away, to where he couldn’t feel the draught anymore. But something cut across it. Something new and strange. A voice. Clear as a winter morning. “Captain Murdock report.” He fumbled to say something back, it was an officer’s voice he needed to reply, how do you speak? Something came out, like a moan or a sigh. “Captain you are ordered to salute in your colonel’s presence.” The voice came again and he felt his arm move off muscle memory alone around and up, the concrete brushed his hand through the fabric. But before he could salute the voice came again. “Captain you are ordered to look your commanding officer in the eye when he speaks to you.” it actually want that hard to open his eyes, it was keeping them open, like a car door that wouldn’t stay up. “Captain you are ordered to remove your bonds. We’re going home.” He had heard those words before. He pulled the car door open and held it with both hands this time. A long time ago, in a jungle, in a cage. We’re going home. He never had returned. “We’re going home.” His vision came into focus and he saw BA in front of him, he was looking at Hannibal, there was some emotion in his eyes, one he didn’t see often. We’re going home. He repeated it as he pushed himself once again up onto his knees and continued where he left off. The buckle came off and the fabric sagged but his arm didn’t come free, no these things were never that simple. “Remember captain we need the knife if you can get it.” Not yet, he would have to get the whole jacket off to reach his pocket. No maybe he could just get both arms out with the jacket still on and find it from inside. We’re going home. The words faded with each movement each tug and each pull. His head wasn’t bleeding into his eyes anymore but that draught on his head was still blowing and with each breeze the thumping noise filled his ears instead of the voice in his brain that chanted we’re going home. His hands stilled when a voice, muffled by the thumping called across again. “Captain you’re ordered to remove you’re bonds! We’re going home!” he felt the euphoria of leaving the Charlie camp before he slid into unconsciousness once more.  
Hannibal was clutching with straws. Murdock’s movements had stilled once again, he had kept on trying even when his eyes had dropped closed and his face had settled onto the concrete. He looked to face and BA who had moth sat up straighter when he had pulled his colonels voice from the crevice in his memory he didn’t like to touch very much. “Ideas guys.” “There’s nothing to even rub on Hannibal, we’re too far away from any boxes and were chained to short. “ BA supplied, he then continued trying to pull apart the solid metal shackles, the only thing he could try. Face however stayed silent with a nervous and contemplative look. He looked to Hannibal, a look between soldiers then turned back to Murdock, still lying in the small puddle of his own blood. “We don’t know how much longer Thomas will leave us on our own for, or how long Murdock can keep going. Sorry Murdock.” Hannibal didn’t know what face was getting at but he soon did as Murdock immediately flinched and his eyes jumped open. “Charlie! Charlie gets down!” Murdock tried desperately to keep his eyes from drooping. “Put your hand in your pocket!” face put on his best Vietnamese accent. “Give me the knife now!” Murdock fumbled as quick as he could which wasn’t very quick at all. One hand was free from the sleeve. “Now!” face shouted again when he saw Murdock’s movements slow. He lurched back into motion, pulling his free arm lower to his jacket pocket beneath the straitjacket “mau!” “Tôi đang cố gắng” Murdock replied in a whisper, the most he could muster.  
“Mau?” Hannibal asked, shocked that face knew exactly the right button to push to make Murdock move again. “I don’t really know, they used to shout it all the time at us in the camp, remember.” Face looked scared, or sad Hannibal couldn’t tell. “He’ll be a mess afterwards but if were all still alive it won’t matter.” Hannibal nodded his head and looked back to his pilot. His hand had reached his pocket. “Give it to me!” Murdock flinched, as if some invisible whip had struck him; he then fumbled with closed eyelids to push the pocket knife out the parting of the two fabrics at his neck. It clattered to the floor. Murdock visibly bent with exhaustion but quickly straightened again when face shouted one last time for Murdock to push it to him. Without the use of his arms, Murdock laid on his back with less grace than usual to let his feet kick the knife in faces direction. It instead spun to BA who bowed, picked it up in him mouth and spat it to faces hands.   
Murdock didn’t hear the Charlie voice again but tried desperately to stay awake in case it came back, in case it thought he was slacking, in case he was punished. He focused on his pain like he had learned to do instead of succumbing to the cool embrace that drifted in through the crack in his skull. He felt the knee that had been crushed in both the helicopters crash, and the boot of an overconfident businessman. He felt his knuckles which had cracked burst with every hit against bone on muscle he had made on his way, fighting through the ranks to get to his family. And now, again he was the one who needed looking after, just because he hadn’t covered his back. Because he has glad to see them safe, unlike when he had been reunited with them in a bamboo prison that smelled of blood, sweat and rot. He pushed the smell from his mind, focussing on the cracks of cold that slid into his head, the cracks of blood that irritated him with every twitch of pain. The storm that was roiling in his gut and the dryness in his throat. He found it was the cold that swept him away instead of darkness’s solid, solid empty embrace. Cold, pain and the smell of rot that whisked him away from the fell of concrete beneath him.  
“Come on, come on.” Face was jamming the knife into the shackles which held him so tightly to the floor. He dared a look back at Murdock to find him lifeless, he looked away just as quickly, he needed to get them all free before he could escape, and if that was to be any time soon he would need something different from Murdock’s overlarge knife, a nail, anything. The anger seemed to of don’t the trick. Face spun quickly around to unlock is other hand, then both his feet. He was immediately running to the crowbar Thomas had left stupidly on the ground then jammed it into the nearest crate and tugged. He bashed out the nail which was holding the panel together then rushed to BA, his reasoning was soon proved accurate as it took only one hand to be free to free the other and then his legs. While BA pulled apart his bindings face rushed to Hannibal, glimpsing at Murdock as he sped, he was now twitching on the ground, not a good sign face silently noted. Face had unlatched one shackle by the time BA slid over to the rest. “It’s ok face man you go get Murdock help I’ll get Hannibal out.” Face didn’t need told twice ye yanked the phone from his inner pocket and pushed 911 into it as he ran to Murdock. He was twitching still, a seizure face betted, with the head injury, it was good that he wasn’t waving wildly, or maybe that meant he had hit something vital when that crowbar had split his skull like a melon, the thoughts raced through his mind as he pressed the operator for an ambulance. BA and Hannibal rushed past picking up the guns of the men Murdock had left immobile on the way in, as they cleared the path out face lifted Murdock into his arms, thinking against a fireman lift and followed the two men until he diverged towards a fire exit, hone cradled between his ear and shoulder. For a brief second he felt like a housewife carrying their child up to bed, on the phone to another child’s mum. Gosh, what he wouldn’t have to have an apple pie life like that. And as he looked down on his twitching blood soaked friend, still half in a straitjacket he knew Murdock wanted nothing more than to have one as well. Maybe one day. The thought flitted through his mind as he ran into the street bathed in LA sun and told the operator where the ambulance should park.


	10. hogmanay gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i was wanting to do this for christmas as a gift to everyone but ive been so busy so instead its a hogmanay gift for you. i know hogmanay isnt celebrated anywhere else but scotland but its a great holiday and i enjoy letting people know a little bit more about the culture of other places so thanks for reading along and enjoy

The fields of eternity spread as far as the eye could see. They were white and as soft as the blanket he once hugged tight at night. And above, heaven opened. The most beautiful thing he had and ever would see. A blue, incomparable to all else. Others tried to copy it but nothing was like it. And the silence. It was boundless. And yet it was full, full of everything, full of the call, the call that haunted him, chased him, kissed him, pushed him, believed in him. He called it lady luck, a joke to those who heard it, not knowing it was real, real if h listened hard enough. He breathed in, smelling the fields of cotton soft clouds that went on, and on, forever. All there was was sky, the eternal place of solitude that had always made him whole. So he sailed. Feeling for the push of sun blessed wind he sailed towards the sun as it arched across the impossibly blue sky, as if coming down to meet him, to open its arms and hold him.  
“Fool’s cryin’ in his sleep again.” BA offered as a hello to Hannibal who was smoking the cigar which had woken him. BA looked him in the eye before turning into the bathroom to his left. Hannibal sighed but didn’t stop inhaling the smoke which cleared his mind, steadied his hands. BA returned to the pale hallway, basked in moonlight from the window the elder was sitting at, he had always been the quickest as brushing his teeth, if you could call it that, attacking was probably more literal.   
“he ain’t done it in a while Hannibal, though that’s probably just cause I haven’ seen him in a while.” Hannibal nodded to show he was listening as he blew out the smoke in his lungs, letting it curl round his head so he could inhale it a second time. “He don’t seem to be moving around a lot though.”  
“Maybe it’s a good dream then,” Hannibal offered a smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much BA, I’m sure Murdock will be happy to know you’re so involved in his wellbeing though.” BA took the bait, cringing back into himself.  
“It aint like that, he was probably dreaming he lost his fool invisible dog or somfin.” Hannibal looked directly at BA and flashed his best wolfs smile as he shuffled away into the room face had offered him for the weekend. As his door clicked shut Hannibal settled the cigar into his mouth once more and digested the information which had just been offered to him. Crying but not moving, maybe he was having a good dream, a dream about something he missed? A dream about someone he loved? He inhaled the vapour, letting it coil in his lungs, absently he wondered if face might get him some proper Cuban ones for Hogmanay, that would be nice. The idea snapped into his mind then. It was almost as if the smoke was speaking to him, whispering ideas right into his brain. He smiled, approving the idea, a plan already starting to be drawn up in his mind. He hadn’t got Murdock anything yet for Hogmanay, which was only tomorrow, well not anything meaningful, he could save the t shirt he had got him for a birthday instead, this was a way better idea. And with that he sucked the fire in his cigar right to his fingers, left the butt in the ashtray beside the window, stood up, stretching the tightness in his back and set off into the brisk night.  
“Don’t put your shoes on the sofa Murdock, this place has to be absolutely spotless in a couple of days and I don’t want to pay for a cleaner.” Face’s almost constantly worried face fretted.  
“You? Pay?” Hannibal quipped from beside BA on the opposite couch from Murdock; from there they had an excellent view into the kitchen where face and Murdock had just deposited the shopping for the meal Murdock was adamant to cook that night.  
“Why has it got to be spotless, you got a girl’s parents coming over?” Murdock smirked as he pulled his legs down and off the sofa. Face sat where they had been seconds before with much more grace than Murdock’s flying, lanky legs.  
“Of course not, me meet the parents?” BA let out a little chuckle at face’s bitch please face. “No, the family who own the house come back from Australia in a couple of days and I don’t want them to think anyone was here.”  
“What!” BA sat up and looked around at the surroundings with a mixture of guilt and disgust. “Some poor kid lives here and I’m sleeping in her bed?”  
“No BA, both their children are in their 20s.” BA seemed to settle a little at that but still didn’t look as at ease as he had been a minute before.  
“Clap!” the noise made face jump and twist round to look at Murdock who had performed the action with virility. “Right! Instead of thinking about the young woman whose bed BA gets to sleep in, presents!” BA hung his head in shame, he had offered to take the couch Murdock had slept on last night but was beaten down by Murdock’s protests of not wanting a cranky BA on Hogmanay. Face rushed off up the stairs to collect his along with Murdock and BA, Hannibal stayed in the living room to the team’s confusion, though when they came down they were quickly answered. Hannibal pulled three letters from his jacket pocket. All of the men still had their jackets on, not that they noticed, just habit they supposed. He handed an envelope to each man; the rest did likewise with their variously shaped presents. Murdock it seemed had wrapped very strange objects though it was soon reviled that they were only wrapped like dinosaurs, not real ones.  
“You know Murdock, I look forward to this and my birthday each year, you wanna know why?”  
“Cos you enjoy the attention face?” Hannibal sweetly supplied.  
“No,” face gave the colonel another bitch face. “Because I always get some kind of coupon or freebee to a resort or something from Murdock, once I’m there I just find my way into the pocket of some man and I can come whenever I want. Murdock get me the most useful presents.” He added with a look at BA who looked over faces hand to see the coupon he had been given.  
“Polo? You don’t even pay polo fool.” BA scoffed  
“No, but you know who does,” he looked at his colonel again who was laughing silently. “Lots of young rich women and their elderly husbands who just give away money in their wills to anyone.”  
“despicable.” But Hannibal still smiled and shook his head as he said it.  
“No problem face man.” Murdock clapped him on the back before looking to his mystery present, the envelope Hannibal had gifted him, his only clue was it was heavier than what it was supposed to contain- paper. He ripped the top open by running a finger down the crease and was surprised to find keys in it.  
“I can’t part a car at the VA colonel; I don’t have a licence they’ll just take it away.” He held the keys in his hands and as the colonel replied he realised they were longer than car keys, not car keys at all.  
“Yes I realised, but I also realised no matter what you do it will be illegal, so might as well pull out all the stops.” Face and BA looked apprehensively between the other two men.  
“These are plane keys.” Murdock told the colonel who already knew, his heart had started to beet that little bit stronger.  
“Yes, the hanger is shut till January the 2nd which should give you plenty of time to get out and enjoy a drive to yourself before anyone notices.” Face was the first to speak.  
“I still think my coupon is better.” But face’s light-hearted joke was forgotten as Murdock got up and hugged the man who had offered him this one small piece of freedom, in a life that had striped it down to just the three men sitting around him. Hannibal patted Murdock’s back, one of those fatherly gestures Murdock appreciated but wasn’t sure the colonel even noticed.  
“Thank you colonel.” Murdock couldn’t think of anything to say that would show just how much he was trying to thank him but hoped it shone in his eyes. Hannibal smiled sadly back, knowing exactly how thankful his pilot with clipped wings was. Murdock watched as the last of the presents were opened but face could see he was itching to get away, he didn’t laugh as much as he normally did and didn’t extend the conversation. Once the last present was opened, a hot pink fur wheel for BA’s truck and they had stopped laughing Murdock excused himself and almost ran upstairs. BA busied himself in the kitchen and had started boiling water when Murdock returned with an armful of maps. He plonked down on the empty sofa and unfolded a map to look like an oversized, colourful newspaper.  
“Where did you pull them out from?” face asked curiously.  
“Never know when you might need a map face man, if I’ve got a map of where I’m going I normally bring one.” It seemed Murdock had two. Murdock looked at his watch quickly then used the same hand to measure a distance on the map.  
“Mapping where you’re going to go captain?” Hannibal asked happily, he had seen the man this exited before but he was sure this time it was for something completely different, the feeling of being up in the skies again, he once remembered Murdock telling him that’s what had got him through being a POW, the thought of being in the air once again. Only to be relieved of rank and licence, and thrown in a loony bin where he couldn’t see the sun rise. The thought made both water well in his eyes and a growl form in his throat.  
“I don’t know whether I should go out tonight and see the last sun of the year go down or I should wait and go out tomorrow morning to see the first sun rise.” Hannibal looked at his watch.  
“You’re a bit tight for time today, the sun goes down in an hour,” Murdock nodded, having already looked at his watch. “And we were all looking forward to your cooking. “ Murdock animatedly blushed and batted his eyes to make Hannibal chuckle. “I also think it will be a lot nicer to see the first sun of New Year rise. More than the last sun die, Hogmanay is about looking forward after all.” Murdock and face nodded in agreement. “That way there’s no rush to come back in soon either; we want to be together for the bells tonight don’t we.”  
“Of course.” Murdock looked settled now; he lay back on the sofa and gazed at the maps lazily as if picking out spots he wanted to fly over instead of frantically looking for the best sights. Face plonked down on the sofa next to Hannibal as Murdock took up the whole couch with his massive map.   
“That was a really good gift you got him colonel.” Face said quietly just to the colonel, the sound of water boiling over behind them stopped anyone else from intruding.   
“BA said he was crying in his sleep last night so I went to the closest small hanger to see what I could wrangle.” Face listened intently without looking away from the snow covered hedges outside. “I don’t want to see him lose hope.”  
“I don’t think he will, but there’s no hurt in making sure.” Face winked at his superior as Murdock flew away from his maps to where BA was yelling about the dinner he was failing at making. Face thought quietly that Hannibal was a good man, no matter how many times he had pulled him away from a dame. A man who looked out for his troops, sometimes before himself. Yes, a good man indeed.  
Murdock was glad he could hardly sleep with excitement that night. The rest of his team had gone to bed around 3 am after eating their fill of nana’s special shepherd’s pie, bringing in the bells to the sound of clinking glass, sight of gold whiskey and chant of an old song. That was 3 hours ago and Murdock had only been able to snooze with the image of pink clouds and orange skies. He deemed it a fine time now. Writing a quick note although he was sure everyone would know where he was he packed up his gear which wasn’t much really and headed out into the cold night.  
He followed Hannibal’s instructions on how to get into the locked hangar which as he found wasn’t so locked thanks to the colonel and found the stash of plane keys. To be honest he could fly any of the planes here but he soon realised he had chosen well when Hannibal gave him the keys to the plane with the highest speed. It wasn’t a jet, oh how Murdock would have yelled in delight to fly a jet again, to feel the wind beneath his wings and go so fast not even sound could keep up. But this would do nicely instead. Picking his way through the other planes, docked in the hangar, mostly small commercial planes for intrastate flying. Really this small socata was the only plane for passengers under ten. Smaller than a cargo plane, it would do just fine. Checking pre-flight was second nature to him, filling her up with fuel from other planes was something he had learned from desperation but no matter soon the old bird was ready to fly. He climbed into the cockpit, leaving his bag in the cramped passenger space behind him that could actually hold only three, he could squeeze ten in. the engine spluttered then hummed into life. Murdock sighed, his eyes shut, savouring the sound and feel of an aeroplane engine beneath him. He let her tick over and get warm as he ran to the hangar doors, before he pulled them open he checked there was nothing in-between the plane, which he had christened Laura, then turned off the lights so no one could see as he drove the small socata from the hanger to the runway. His heart was beating very fast now as he ran from closing the doors behind him to the plane again. He splayed and fisted his hands a couple of times for both the nerves and the cold before laying them on the controls. The runway wasn’t lit and neither was he, the less people saw him the better, he didn’t want to be caught, he wanted this to be the secret time he had with only himself and the eternal sky. He opened his eyes, smelling the fumes from the engine, the smell of home. He pushed the lever up which kicked Laura into motion down the runway Murdock could barely see, we was glad it hadn’t snowed last night but it was still quite icy. “We loves a challenge buddy boy.” He could feel the wheels start to lighten as Laura ascended, Murdock started to howl to the moon, the stars, both were watching on this cloudless night as the pilot with clipped wings flew up to meet them. And he was there, floating between the white stars above him and the yellow streetlights bellow. He could hear nothing but the whistle of the wind and the engine as it roared away all evil. The endless silken night opened up before him in swathes of blue and purple, all overlaid to make it look black, impassable abut as he flew on and up he passed through them, like curtains or ripples in a pool. Yes, that’s what it was he thought, flying was like swimming, especially at night when you couldn’t see which way was up and down. He pulled the yoke down on one side and felt the wing drop, causing the plane to loop round in a slow circle, all the while never letting his eye leave the window, he saw the stars above and below melt together and felt the tears he kept locked in a chest in the bottom of his heart seep into his eyes. He was alone, but not lonely. Here it was silent but not quiet. Here he was free, here he could touch heaven.  
Every now and then he checked his dials so he wouldn’t get lost but soon found no need to when he found the North Star which would lead him home, maybe he should have been a navy captain indeed, endless nights of open air and stars to look at. Small memories of the war suddenly started to seep into his mind making him panic, catch his breath as he tried to shut them out, keep looking at the stars and find the peace he had had just a moment before. But it was no use. He could feel the sticky heat of the jungle on his back, his neck his head, he wanted to pull of his headphones to give them air, to stop the feeling of sweat that was so akin to blood. He had started scratching, the tears from the joy he had felt starting to fall in pain when it came. The bolt of gold that split the world in two. Dawn had come.  
It cleaved the darkness like a knife, separating him from his flashback and dosing him in the cold water that was reality. He was cold, not hot, and clammy from fear, not coated in blood. The gold turned to orange, the orange you dream of when you want to go on holiday, if only people realised paradise was there, coming their way with the rising sun. And as it peaked out from the arch of the earth it blinded Murdock, filling him with the light of a new year. Suddenly the clouds where pink and purple, the sky had turned an unbelievable shade of blue, not sky blue, not midnight, not baby, or sapphire, not cyan or lapis lazuli or even sea. No this was a blue you could only ever see if you waited for it, if you need to see it, it was the blue of a new-born’s eyes, the blue of the first raindrop before a storm, the blue Murdock could only remember, the blue of nanas eyes, of his grandpas snow globes, the blue of the Texan sky as it stretched too thin across the world. The tears that then fell were that same blue. He faintly had the feeling of dejavu, had he dreamt this, the cotton clouds that had rolled in and under him, the blue of eternity, no he would have remembered that orange that was so bright it turned to gold. But he did remember it. Yes. It was the same sun he had seen the first day he had entered the POW camp, the sun he had seen when his grandpa had died, the sun he saw when he was called out of bed in his basic training, the sun he saw last week as it reflected off a window into his own at the VA. A smile pulled his lips upward. A tear washed his eyes of pain. Murdock sucked in the air of a new year and found it smelled like the unwavering blue outside. When he blew it out he heard the call of the wind and grinned wider. He pushed down on the accelerator and stot towards the gold on the horizon, twisting into a corkscrew that went dangerously fast and let out a howl, one to rattle the stars above him. He was glad Hannibal had broken into the hangar, glad that he had learned to steal fuel, if only it got him this time to be a human again, to feel weightless, to feel free up where the aroura dances and the birds call. Up where a broken man learns to put himself back together


	11. guns, guts and glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another made up event. i think there should be more murdock in jets, there just isn't enough don't you think. all the maneuvers are real, look on you tube if you want, but even if they weren't its fun to imagine they are. sorry not much whump today

“Oh I do like to be beside the sea side, I do like to be beside the sea.” Murdock happily sang as he swung round the table to sit beside face.  
“Shut up Murdock shut up!” BA tensed up, bending the fork in his hand.  
“Oh come on BA what’s wrong with a little song now and then?” Murdock’s award winning smile shone at the scowling man which made Hannibal chuckle.  
“Ah hate your singin’” BA huffed.  
“You know what BA,” BA didn’t like where this was going. “I know you’re a big mud sucker but I would’ve thought, hey if he doesn’t like to fly ok, that’s fine, I don’t like jalapeños on my burgers but I would have thought you would like being on a boat instead.” Murdock pointed at him with his fork, potato still hanging off the end. “But no, you’re the biggest mud sucker I know, don’t like the skies, don’t like the sea; all you want to do is get a great big hunk of mud.” He mimed scooping up invisible dirt from the table. “And making sweet love to it.” He animatedly French kissed the air where his hands held the mud.” Hannibal threw his head back in laughter while the anxious grimace on the lieutenant’s face only deepened, hidden by the hand that had just pinched his nose. BA on the other hand had already stood up in outrage, making the remaining men dive for their cups of water to stop them from spilling.   
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of you sucker!” BA shot over the table in time to Hannibal reaching over to stop him, Murdock twisting away from his muscled hands and face lifting his tray from the table so none of it spilled on him. But his fisted hands stopped when they gripped hold of his t-shirt, all the men stopped as the emergency tannoy sounded throughout the cafeteria.  
“Attention!” a clipped male voice called to the whole aircraft carrier they had been stationed on for the last week as they were ferried around Vietnam. “We have a code 45 of the starboard side.” Murdock flew out of his seat and sprinted down the hallway to the exit, face jumped at his sudden motion while BA stared at the spot he had just been holding him, he had never seen the man move so fast but all their questions were soon answered when the voice continued. “All fighter pilots report to jets for immediate contact. Code red all personnel.” The voice then went to repeat what it had just said as the men understood what was happening.   
“Code 45 colonel?” face asked the question for BA   
“Enemy jets spotted, friendly jets engage.” The reply was as clipped as the tannoy; all men suddenly had no appetite. The colonel led the way Murdock had vanished through to the top deck, his pace was brisk and words short. In a second the entire ship was a hive of activity, they were not navy officers and really should be getting out of the way but Murdock was trained to fly a jet and it seemed that was what he was going to do, he wouldn’t be kept in the dark about one of his men’s actions. Or at least that’s what he told the soldier as he ascended the steps to top deck as he tried to order them further below. It took both the colonel order and BA’s threat of not wanting to be shut bellow if the ship were to sink to make the young Californian give in and let them out into the sun.  
The top deck was no different, there were people running everywhere while the sound of jet engines firing up and the ominous hum of oncoming engines filled the air. Face turned and saw a black smudge pulling out of the horizon, a squadron of jet fighters that were heading right for them. Hannibal surveyed the deck below theirs which held the runway and all the aircraft, pilots which had bolted into flight suits were still zipping them up as they jumped into cockpits, some fuel lines were still attached when others were firing up engines and pulling down the cockpit window. One jet shot down the runway and soared up and right towards the threat, another was soon screaming down as well. Hannibal was about to check his watch to see the amount of minutes it had taken from call to lift off, thinking only of how efficient the flight crews were when face asked him a question which pulled his mind away. “Which one is Murdock? He doesn’t have a jet; we came here on a chopper?” BA was looking round too at the sudden question, how would they be able to distinguish him form the others, how would they know if he was shot down? The colonel ripped the thought from his mind and continued to search the cockpits for a familiar face. But they were all covered in oxygen masks, Hannibal was frantically trying to think of another way to distinguish his huey pilot when the biggest trait came up and yelled in his ear. Literally. A Great War cry filled the air and rushed past them as a jet punched down the runway then into the air to join the others. Face caught the name on the jet, it wasn’t Murdock’s, it must have been a pilot which hadn’t made it back to the base, one part of his mind thought it was good that the bird was still flying, another thought darkly that it was a Deadman’s plane, maybe a Deadman was still inside.  
There was no mistaking that it was Murdock as many onlookers laughed and pointed at the noise, then the theatrics as Murdock made his jet spin as it sped up to meet the other jets in an arrow formation.  
“That’s the crazy fool alright, ah thought he only flew hueys.” BA moved over to the railing looking at the two lines of jets as they came closer to each other.  
“He never told you he used to fly for the thunderbirds?” face asked as he came to stand next to him. BA’s eyebrow lifted  
“So that’s why the crazy man’s always wanting to do flips with the chopper.”  
“Oh he does do flips with the chopper BA.” Hannibal teased as he too joined to make a line of three; he had managed to pull a pair of binoculars off a startled young private and was now adjusting them so the jets were in focus. “I’d quite like to see what he can do with a jet.  
He wasn’t disappointed  
Murdock didn’t hold back his cry of joy as he flew faster and faster in his jet. It was a jet. Oh it had been so long since the wind was really underneath his wings. Choppers were good for cruising but nothing came over close to the feeling of a jet, the feeling of the wind under her wings. He was glad he could take this poor widowed bird up, even if it was her last flight. A bird shouldn’t be grounded, no it should fly, and even if it was shot out of the air it died doing not only what it does best but what it was born to do. Murdock fell seamlessly into formation with the other jets from sheer muscle memory; it had been before the war since he had flown in an aerodynamic craft like this. He pulled the stick around a little to get a hang of it again, a couple of spins, diving and lifting. Once the stick fell into the shape of his hand he sounded off through the comms. There were a couple of captains a couple of lieutenants and one major on this flight, they all probably had more experience he thought dully, but at least he would get to see some real flying from these boys.  
He wasn’t disappointed  
As the two lines of black fell into each other’s line of fire they banked away like the opening of a flower, a flower that emits the thunderous sound of gunfire. Hannibal, face and BA all hear from the ship as both jets opened fire on each other, none had found their marks yet on either side. Face reasoned that flying might not be as easy as ground fighting. He was soon proved right as the pilots dove, wove and spun though each other in maddening circles and arcs to try and get another jet into their line of fire while keeping there’s out of it. The unity soon broke as each jet picked a victim and danced the tango themselves. Different indeed Hannibal realised as a couple of jets broke down and blasted a pilot form below as he shot past. The burning wreck was dodged narrowly by Charlie then hit the water with a great boom. the water rose past its American flag as Hannibal remembered an old mentor tell him ‘study the enemy, if they get us there doing something we haven’t thought of yet’ and so he made a mental note for a future battle, use all three dimensions, he didn’t want to see another one of their men die. But die they did. Soon the air in which the pilots were flying was clouded by the smoke of both Vietnamese and American jets as they slowly sunk. Hannibal raised his binoculars to look more closely at the jets, to try and find his pilot again, but all the jets looked the same. Yet again as if Hannibal had a mental link to the pilot a jet shot past his binoculars.  
“Is that him Hannibal?” face pointed “the one that’s diving just now.” Of course Murdock would be the one to pull out all the fancy maneuverers. There were two jets, Murdock was below and flying frantically in circles to avoid fire from the enemy jet above him. The circle was large which bated the Charlie jet into following his movement but Hannibal saw the trap as Murdock began to pull his circle in further and further until he was almost just spinning, wide enough not to be going in a straight line so as to get shot but tight enough that the Charlie jet was focused only on the movement and not the dive. Face let out a small cry of alarm as Murdock viciously turned fully so the top of his jet was facing the water so he could miss it my mere meters as the following jet smacked with a bang into it instead. He then spun himself onto his front and tilted the nose up so he came in an arch back to the main fray.   
Murdock glanced below at the wreckage with a grin that was quickly wiped away as the fight escalated. He saw as two Charlie jets moved to pincer one of his team above him. He had learned long ago to make impulsive gut decisions in the air; people were predictable at high speeds and high highs. He wasn’t wrong as he charged right towards the jet moving into the pincer movement. The pilot saw him as he started to open fire and banked away just as he wanted into an American jet’s line of fire. The movement was quick as both jets passed each other and there was a thumbs up over the comms. But the jet behind him had given up on his quarry and was instead starting to chase him, probably sad he had foiled his plan, no matter. Fe played into their game this time.  
“What’s he doing?!” face squealed as he peered through the binoculars. Hannibal looked up from the other jet he was looking at to find Murdock on the run, not a good sign but he soon understood face’s worry as Murdock was heading directly at another Charlie who was heading right for him.  
“He’s gone mad!” BA yelled before tuning. He heard the bang and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Murdock’s jet fall lifelessly to the oceans over arms, to become a part of the plane graveyard that was expanding as each minute passed.  
“I think it’s just the right kind of mad sergeant.” Hannibal clapped him on the shoulder as BA heard the boom of a fallen plane on the water but as he looked it he saw the star of Vietnam, two stars, as he looked up he saw the red white and blue bared right to him as Murdock’s jet flew sideways. BA blinked, it was sideways, his engines to the sea, its nose in the air and was moving left, he must have slid out between both jets making them ram into each other. Hannibal stuck his cigar in his smiling mouth as Murdock’s jet fell back and down then curved back up again, doing a spin before entering the fray once more.  
Murdock spun as he ascended, seeing of there was anyone around him before pushing up and through the middle of the fighting, he saw in his mirror that he had managed to pull one vengeful enemy jet to follow him. He smiled before stopping acceleration, dipping the head then letting out a couple of bursts and before the bewildered pilot knew it Murdock’s jet had flipped on its head and now faced him. It took one shot for Murdock to blow up the cockpit and one more to blow up an engine as he banked away from the dead bird, not wanting to collide and damage his own. He chanced another quick look around and saw a couple of jets in need of help, the second one fell in step behind him as he flew between him and the American jet to give his ally another second to get away. This jet wasn’t falling into the same traps that others had, maybe he had been watching him, maybe he had waited till he showed off his strengths, his agility, his speed. Maybe the exact opposite might get him. Murdock took in a rattling breath and adjusted his hand on the stick, he hadn’t done this stunt in a while but it should do the trick for a second, a second was all he needed. He saw another Charlie jet that was coming in behind an American one, it would do nicely. He tilted a bit closer, widening his evasive maneuverer so it wasn’t too suspicious as the jet behind him continued to fire. Murdock sent up a silent prayer before sucking in a breath and stopping the jet dead in the air. His stick arm shook around, feeling the air currents to make him hover as he let out spurts of acceleration to keep him afloat. His suspicion was correct, the agile Charlie behind him didn’t think twice about banking left as Murdock’s evasive maneuverer had prompted him to do. Banking round the immobile jet and straight into the jet plaguing the American. Both went up in flames as Murdock prompted the jet back into its usual movements, using the wave of heat as a push to fly into the firing sight of another Charlie craft. He could pursue that for a while to get his breath back.  
“Crazy man’s flying a jet like it’s a chopper.” BA shook his head as many people gasped and ooh’d at the trick.  
“Well he does fly the chopper like it’s a jet so it’s no big surprise there.” Face who was squinting through the lenses shot back to Hannibal’s laughter and BA’s grimace. Hannibal blew out a puff of smoke and continued to survey the air, there were only four, no three enemy jets left form the 15 or so there had been. Maybe they would all be back in time for dinner.  
Murdock pulled in beside a friendly jet and gave a quick signal to pincer the jet he was trying to shoot down. The pilot nodded and banked away, Murdock looked back to the jet that was running away like it was being shot at. Which it was. Murdock banked a little left to push the jet towards the right and into the trap he was setting. He saw his accomplice bank back round to surprise the Charlie in between himself and Murdock. Piece of cake. But unfriendly fire came from above and his the American’s tail causing the bird to spin out of control an fall from the sky, a jet seconds later shot passed, toward another jet who was also unsuspecting, it was in flames seconds later. The image of the falling jet reminded Murdock of a phoenix, its wings alight, shards of broken metal even looked like feathers. But he knew this phoenix wouldn’t rise again but rather be swallowed by the sea. He would never see that man again; he would never come home, not even in a coffin.   
Murdock turned back to the jet he was chasing, a new anger rising in his throat but he pushed it down. Impulsiveness, yes, that was good in an airborne battle, but recklessness, that’s what got you killed every time. He wanted to be buried in American soil, not the South China Sea.  
“Damn it that was too close.” Hannibal hissed as the jet which had taken out two American jets only seconds earlier tried to steamroll into Murdock. Murdock instead tried to make it steamroll into the jet he had been pursuing by kicking up his tail and diving in a right angle vertically downwards. Hannibal kept the binoculars tight to his eyes as he saw Murdock mimic the flight of the dangerous jet from below, falling directly into line before kicking his tail out again to fly sideways like they had done before, this time so he could shoot directly up into the jet above him without it seeing him. Well almost without it seeing him. Right at the last second there was a great rush of air as the jet twirled away, not before the metallic clash that meant Murdock had hit something. As Hannibal tried to keep up with their lightning fast movements he saw there was a line of holes on the right wing of the craft, the engine was miraculously intact much to his dismay.   
“Damn it that was close!” Murdock swore to himself as he pushed his jet which he had decided to name dot upwards once more to tail the jet which had caused so much harm. He was careful to avoid the other fights that were still waging. The jet must have lost some agility as the air leaked through those holes Murdock thought as he scrambled to find a plan. He pulled up behind the jet which immediately started to maneuverer away. He opened fire intermittently, wanting to conserve fire even if he had enough. You never knew what was going to happen, ‘waste not want not’ his grandmother had always told him and if he listened to his gran back home like hell he wouldn’t listen to her in this rainy, hot hell. But it wasn’t rain today much to Murdock’s dismay. The unbroken sky seared his eyes as the jet in front headed straight into it, using anything to help him; he must be really looking movement on that wing. So Murdock made dot pull wider to attack the jet’s sides and to make it bank more which it couldn’t do. Murdock pulled down to try and attack its underbelly as he pulled up but the jet pulled up as well. This is a good pilot Murdock thought, “A worthy advisory!” he told the emptiness of his cockpit as the jet mimicked every move. “Come on dot lets t-“but his ramblings were cut off as the jet tipped over on its head like Murdock had done to fire at him from in front. Murdock had been pulled into a trap not of his making; the pilot was worthy indeed, using all his tricks against him. Murdock rammed the stick to make dot spin away. Both wings still attacked? Good. All engines running? Excellent. Pulling the stick towards himself he rose up into the air then instead of falling backwards into an arc fell forwards to pursue his prey. The thought wildly as he looked down on the jet, his own was flying in a great arc with its nose towards the sea in case the jet fire- yup in case the jet decided to turn up the way and fire as it just did. Both jets fell into a clockwise circle around each other, dodging and firing at the same time to shoot the other from the sky. “What a mean sucker.” But there was one idea; the jet was going high while dot was diving. Just a little closer then. The jet whizzed up to meet him as their circle grew closer to try and kill the other. Maybe if he banked away then turned, no he would be above him then. There were still getting closer, he could read the Vietnamese on the jet, he could see the whites of the pilot’s eyes. There was a spine shivering screech as the top of both cockpits scraped passed eachother. Now! Murdock lifted the nose and kicked down the tail, letting out a burst of acceleration, he was in a split second looking directly up into the main engine of the jet. He fired and the pilot banked again. But not before his engine exploded like a man with food poisoning. Murdock laughed to himself and twisted the stick sending dot parallel to the ocean. The scene around him danced for a second after all the spinning.  
Clouds of smoke billowed up from the sea as 3 jets cornered the last Charlie aircraft still with wings. There was a boom as the Vietnamese jet which brought down three of the five jets destroyed hit the water in a burning pile. A second boom followed soon after as that last jet fell into the turquoise water. Hannibal released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.  
“Did you see how close Murdock was there!” face ran a hand through his sandy hair which was bare to the air after he had taken off his beret to hold tightly in his hands.  
“I don’t get it Hannibal, how does the crazy fool crash so many helicopters and didn’t manage to crash one jet.” BA shook his head and crossed his arms. Hannibal did the same, though for a different reason. The sound of jet engines was getting louder as the team came back onto the aircraft carrier one at a time. Murdock was third on so the rest of the A-team ran over to where they saw Murdock dock the jet, jumping down the stairs as they went.  
Murdock tuned off the engine as dot rolled to a stop. And as he heard the engine slowly go to sleep he let out a shaking breath of his own. The image of the phoenix jet burning in his mind’s eye. So he closed them, not letting the tears overwhelm him. He heard running footsteps and guessed who they belonged to. His family, coming to welcome him back from the battle field. That’s what it was, not matter how much he enjoyed it in the moment. Afterwards he didn’t remember the flight, didn’t remember the adrenaline that pumped through every pore to make him only feel and see what he needed to. The feel of the wind. Oh how it had been today. He was flying a jet! Yes, that’s what he would try and remember he told himself as he straightened, sniffed back his tears and opened his eyes. Not the brothers he had lost, not the one he had pulled into a maneuverer which had gotten him killed. No he wouldn’t think that he should have seen that other jet. Should have stopped it. No he would remember the feel of the air in dots wings. The feeling of lift off. Yes. He opened the cockpit glass as the steps slowed and grew louder.  
As Hannibal slowed to a walk before reaching Murdock’s jet he saw the damage. The bullet holes that littered the jet he had borrowed. A small line at the tail. A couple of stragglers at the head. Even a couple of score marks where he must have banked just in time to miss them. The cockpit glass pulled back and caught the sunlight so Hannibal and both men could see the deep score running down the middle, a bullet that had just missed his pilot. Thinking of the devil; Murdock popped up from undie and turned round, pulling his mask and goggles off to reveal a wide grin. He looked behind him and saw the long score as well.  
“Just missed by the looks of it.” Hannibal said as way of greeting.  
“Yeah, another spin and we would have been goners.” Murdock replied happily, moving to jump out of the craft as face helped to retrieve a ladder. Hannibal stopped and gulped realising just how close he had been to losing his captain. BA seemed to realise too.  
“You crazy fool!”  
“Good to see you too BA!” Murdock pulled his legs over the glass and onto the ladder, flashing a dark stain that encompassed his thigh. “Out and about, not to scared of the water now eh.”  
“Are you hit Murdock?” face asked anxiously eyeing the blood stain.  
“What? Oh!” Murdock looked down but waved a hand. “Just a flesh wound don’t worry, here come and see where the bullet hit, it’s really funny.” Face didn’t look amused but ascended the ladders at Murdock’s request. “Look at that, I bet you couldn’t do that even if you tried.” Sure enough face’s eyes widened as he looked at a smiley face made out of a nob and two dials with a bullet hole for a nose. “Hannibal you’ve got to see this.” Murdock called with his mouth in open smile.  
“I will captain as soon as you report to the infirmary to get that looked at.” Murdock pouted and hung his head but obeyed, taking off his helmet and leaving it in the blood soaked cockpit chair. He shook out his sweat wet hair and walked away from the men towards the door to lower decks and the infirmary. “Go with him BA, I have a feeling the adrenaline will wear off soon and he might need a help standing.” “I don’t want to be with no crazy man when he’s in sick bay!” “You will sergeant and I won’t ask again.” Hannibal looked away from him as a dismissal towards his lieutenant who was still sitting up on the jet.   
“Really though Hannibal this is pretty funny.” Face pointed behind him. Hannibal was about to follow his direction when a voice came from behind. “Are you Murdock’s CO Sir?” he tuned to see a major by his shoulder still in his flight suit; his hair was equally sweat-shod. “You’ve managed to get yourself a good pilot there colonel; I wish I’d grabbed him sooner, what do you have him flying?” “Mostly hueys major I haven’t seen him fly a jet.” The major raised his eyebrows. “Well I would like to thank him personally for helping us today but it seems as though he’s already gone.” “Off to the infirmary, don’t worry he’s fine and I like to keep my team that way.” “A hard trait to come by, thank you colonel.” He then sped off without a second look.  
“Murdock’s getting all the attention today.” Face light-heartedly remarked.   
“Major hawthorn, I hear he does recruitments for the CIA.” Face’s smile dropped. “But don’t worry, I’m not letting go of our dinky dau without a fight.” Hannibal flashed that wolf’s smile at face who grimaced but seemed to trust in his colonel. Hannibal looked away from face and back down at the bullet ridden bird. He had never seen someone fly a plane sideways before. He made a mental note to properly ask what maneuverers Murdock could do in a chopper. Maybe it could give them an advantage. But first he would have to get him out of the infirmary, and give him a pat on the shoulder, hell he wanted to give him a medal, there were 10 jets that went out today and only 5 came back, well six if you counted the one that managed to parachute out. And Hannibal knew there would have been ad least two more gone if it wasn’t for his pilot who didn’t stop even when he had a bullet in his leg. He smiled to himself absently as he peered into a bullet hole that went right through the body so he could see the sea on the other side, that’s why he’s on the A-team.


End file.
